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SHADOW OF THE ROCK. 



RELIGIOUS POEMS SELECTED FROM 
MANY SOURCES. 

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NEW AND ENLARGED ED1T10^.^^-;J '"- / y J ' Q^' 






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NEW YORK: 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & CO., 

770 BKOADWA.T, COR. 9TH STREET. 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, b) 

Anson D. F. Randolph & Co., 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at 

Washington, D. C. 



EDWARD O, JEXICINS, 

PRlNTlii: AND STIiliEOTYPER., 

20 North William Street, N. V. 

ROBERT RUTTER. 
BINDER, 
84 Beekmaii Street, N, ^ 



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THE 



Changed Gross, 



Other Beligious Poems 



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The great favor wliicli a part of tlie follow- 
ing selections had met in the form of ' ' Leaf- 
lets for Letters," induced the Publishers, 
some few years ago, to gather them in a vol- 
ume that found a wide circulation. 

In March, 1865, a new edition, with addi- 
tions, was published ; and the continued de- 
mand for the v/ork has led to the present 
enlargement, which embraces some twenty- 
nine additional poems. 

As the poems are mainly waifs, gathered 
from magazines and newspapers, it has not 
been possible, except in a few instances, to 
ascertain the names of the writers. 

New York, March, 187'^ 



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H-, 



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The Chanqeb Gross, 

AND 

Other Religious Poems, 



IT was a time of sadness, and my heart, 
Although it knew and loved the better pait, 
Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, 
And all the needful discipline of life. 

And while I thought on these, as given to me — 
My trial tests of faith and love to be — 
It seemed as if I never could be sure 
That faithful to the end I should endure. 

And thus, no longer trusting to His might 
Who says, " We walk by faith, and not by sights" 
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair, 
The thought arose — ^IMy cross I cannot bear ; 

Far heavier its weight must surely be 
Than those of others which I daily see. 
Oh ! if I might another burden choose, 
Mcthlnks I should not fear my crown to lose. 



i 



^ 6 THE CUAXGED CROSS. 

A solemn silence reigned on all around — 
E'en Nature's voices uttered not a sound ; 
'Jlie evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, 
And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. 

A moment's pause — and then a heavenly light 
Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sigh*^ 
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, 
And angels' music thrilled the balmy air. 

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see^ — 
One to whom all the others bowed the knee — 
Came gently to me as I trembling lay, 
And, " Follow me 1" He said ; " I am the Way " 

Then, speaking thus. He led mc far above, 
And there, beneath a canopy of love. 
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen, 
Larger and smaller than my own had been. 

And one there was, most beauteous to behold, 
A little one, with jewels set in gold. 
Ah ! this, methought, I can with comfort wcai-, 
For it will be an easy one to bear : 

And so the little cross I quickly took ; 
But, all at once, my frame beneath it shook. 
The sparkling jewels fair Avere they to see^ 
But far too heavy was their weight for mc. 



:n. 



-I 



^ — ^ 

'~^ THE CHANGED CliOSlS. 7 — ' 

'• Tills may not be," I cried, and looked again, 
To see if there was any here could ease my pain ; 
l?ut, one by one, I passed them slowly by, 
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye. 

Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined, 
And grace and beauty seemed in it combined. 
Wondering, I gazed ; and still I wondered more 
To think so many should have passed it o'er. 

But oh ! that form so beautiful to sec 
Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me ; 
Tliorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair ! 
Sorrowing, I said : " This cross I may not bear." 

And so It was with each and all around — 
Not one to suit my need could there be found ; 
Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down, 
As my Guide gently said : " No cross, no crown !" 

At length, to ITim I raised my saddened heart : 
lie knew its soitows, bid its doubts depart. 
" Be not afraid," He said, " but trust in me — 
My pei*fect love shall notv be shown to thee." 

And then, with lightened eyes and willing feet, 
Again I turned, my earthly cross to meet, 
With forward footsteps, turning not aside, 
Tor fear some hi(ld<^n evil might betide ; 



^ 



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8 TRB CHANGED CROSS ^ 



And there — In the prepared, appointed way, 
Listening to hear, and ready to obey — 
A cross I quickly found of plainest form, 
With only words of love inscribed thereon. 

With thankfulness I raised it from the rest, 
And joyfully acknowledged it the best — 
Tlie only one of all the many there 
That I could feel was good for me to bear. 

And, while I thits my chosen one confessed, 
I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest ; 
And, as I bent, my burden to sustain, 
r recognized my own old cross again. 

But oh ! how different did it seem to bo 
Now I had learned its preciousness to see I 
No longer could I unbelieving say, 
Perhaps another is a better way. 

Ah no ! henceforth my own desire shall be. 
That lie who knows me best should choose for mc 
And so, whate'er His love sees good to send, 
ril trust it's best, because He knows the end. 



" For my thoughts are not your thoughts, saith the Lord."- 
tsAiAU 50 : 8. 

"For I know the thouglits that I think towards you— thoughts 
of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."— 
Jkr. 29 : 11. 

And when that happy time shall come, of endless peace and ropt, 
We shall look hack upon our patii, «n«i say : It was the l)eet. 



* 



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THi: MEETING-PLACE. 



THE MEETINQ-FLACE, 

WHEKE the faded flower shall frcslion 
Freshen never more to fade ; 
Where the shaded sky shall brighten. 

Brighten never more to shade ; 
Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; 

Where the star-beams cease to chill ; 
Where no tempest stirs the echoes 

Of the wood, or wave, or hill ; 
Where the morn shall wake in gladness, 

And the moon the joy prolong ; 
Where the daylight dies in fragrance 

']Mid the burst of holy song — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blest. 

Where no shadow shall bewilder ; 

Where life's vain parade is o'er; 
Where the sleep of sin Is broken, 

And the dreamer dreams no more ; 
Where the bond is never severed — 

Partings, clasplngs, sobs, and moan, 
Midnight waking, twilight weeping, 

Heavy noontide — all are done ; 
Where the child has found its motlicr, 

Where the mother f.nds the child; 

^ — _ ^ 



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10 TUJS MEETZHG-PLACE. 



Where dear families are gathered 

That were scattered on the wild — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'I^IId the holy and the blest. 

Where the hidden wound is healed ; 

Where the blighted light re-blooms , 
Where the smitten heart the freshness 

Of its buoyant youth resumes ; 
Where the love that here we lavish 

On the withering leaves of time, 
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on, 

In an ever spring-bright clime ; 
Where we find the joy of loving, 

As we never loved before ; 
Loving on unchilled, unhindered, 

Loving once and evermore — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Md the holy and the blest. 

Where a blasted world shall brighten 

Underneath a bluer sphere. 
And a softer, gentler sunshine 

Shed its healing splendor here ; 
Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, 

Putting on their robe of green, 
And a purer, fairer Eden 

Be where only wastes have been ; 



J 



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TUE PILGRIM. 



11 H 



VVbeic a King, in kingly glory 
Such as earth has never known, 

Shall assume the rigliteous sceptre, 
Claim and wear the heavenly crown— 

Brother, we shall meet and rest 

'Jilid the holy and the blest. 



TEE PILGRIM. 

STILL onward through this land of foes 
I pass in Pilgrim guise ; 
I may not stop to seek repose ; 
Where cool the shadow lies 
I may not stoop amid the grass 

To pluck earth's fairest flowei-s, 
Nor by her springing fountains pass 
The sultry noontide hours ; 

Tct floAvers I wear upon my breast 

That no earth-garden knows — 
White lilies of immortal peace, 

And love's deep-tinted rose ; 
And there the blue-eyed llowers of faith, 

And hope's bright buds of gold, 
As lone 1 tread the upward path, 

In richest hues unfold. 



^ 12 TUE PILGRIM. 

I keep my armor ever on, 
For foes beset my way ; 

I •watch, lest passing on alone 
I fall a helpless prey. 

No earthly love have I — I lean 
Upon no mortal breast ; 

But my Beloved, though unseen, 

Walks near and gives me rest 

• 

Afar, around, I often see, 

Throughout this desert wide, 
His Pilgrims pressing on like mo — 

They often pass my side : 
The kindly smile, the gentle word, 

For Jesus' sake I give ; 
But love — O Thou alone adored 1 

For Thee alone I live. 

Painful and dark the pathway seems 

To distant earthly eyes ; 
They only see the hedging thorns 

On either side that rise ; 
They can not know how soft between 

The flowers of love are strewn — 
The sunny ways, the pastures green, 

Where Jesus leads His own ; 

They cannot see, as darkening clouds 
Behind tlie Pilgrim close. 



« 5 



HOLY TEARS. 13 



How far adown tlie western glade 

The golden glory flows ; 
They cannot hear 'mid earthly din 

The song to Pilgrims known, 
Still blending with the angels' hpan 

Around the wondrous throne. 

So I, Thy bounteous token-flowers 

Still on my bosom wear ; 
While me, the fleeting love-winged houi-s 

To Thee still nearer bear ; 
So from my lips Thy song shall flow, 

My sweetest music be ; 
So on mine eyes the glory grow, 

TiU all is lost in Thee. 



^ 



HOLY TEARS. 

YES, thou may'st weep, for Jesus shed 
Such tears as those thou sheddest now. 
When, for the living or the dead. 
Sorrow lay heavy on his brow. 

He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame 

The weakness of thy flesh and heart *, 
Thy human nature is the same 

As that in which he took a part. | 



14 HOLY TEAUS. 



lie knows its weakness, for he felt 
The crushing power of pain and woe, 

How body, soul, and sph-it melt 

And faint beneath the stunnin-:: blow. 

What if poor sinners count thy grief 
The sign of an unchastened will ? 

lie who can give thy soul relief, 
Knows that thou art submissive still. 

Turn thee to Him, to Him alone ; 

For all that our poor lips can say 
To soothe thee, broken-hearted one, 

"Would fail to comfort thee to-day. 

Wc will not speak to thee, but sit 
In prayerful silence by thy side : 

Grief has its ebbs and flows ; 'tis fit 
Our love should wait the ebbing tide. 

Jesus Himself will comfort thee. 
In His own time, in His own way ; 

And haply more than " two or throe" 
Unite in prayer for thee to-day. 



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WHOLLY RESIGNED. 15 



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QOB OUR STRENGTH. 

'\ /|~AN, in his weakness, needs a strougcr stay 
i_V_l_ Than fellow-men, the holiest and the best : 
And yet we turn to them from day to day, 
As if in them our spirits could find rest. 

Gently untwine our childish hands, that cling 
To such inadequate supports as these, 

And shelter us beneath Thy heavenly wing. 
Till we have learned to walk alone with ease. 

Help us, O Lord ! with patient love to bear 
Each other's faults, to suffer with true meekness 

Help us each other's joys and griefs to share, 
But let us turn to Thee alone in weakness. 



WHOLLY RESIGNED. 

CHRIST leads us through no darker rooms 
Than he went through before ; 
He that into God's kingdom comes, 

Must enter by this door : 
Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see. 
For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 
^\Tiat will Thy glory be I 



^ 



4±r — , ^rt^. 

1 6 " MT TIMES ABU AV TJTT HAITD." ' 



Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary, sinful days ; 
And join with the triumphant saints. 

That sing Jehovah's praise : 
My knowledge of that life is small, 

The eye of faith is dim, 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. 



''MT TIMES ARE IN THY HAND:' 
Psalm 31 : 15. 

FATHER, I know that all my lile 
Is portioned out for me ; 
And the changes that are sure to come, 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask Thee for a present mind 
Inleni en pleasing Thee. 

I ask Thee for a thankful love, 

Through constant watching wise, 
To meet the glad with joyful smiles, 

And to wipe the weeping eyes, 
And a heart at leisure from itself^ 

To soothe and sympathize. 

"^ ^ 



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2fT TIMES ARE' IN TUY ITA2TD:' 1*/ 



^ + 



I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro, 
Seeking for some great thing to do, 

Or secret thing to know ; 
I would be dealt with as a child, 

And guided where to go. 

Wherever In the world I am, 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with hearts, 

To keep and cultivate ; 
And a work of holy love to do, 

For the Lord on whom I wait. 

I ask Thee for the daily strength, 

To none that ask denied ; 
And a mind to blend with outward Ufe^ 

AVhile keeping at Thy side ; 
Content to fill a little space, 

If Thou be glorified. 

And if some things I do not ask, 

In my cup of blessing be, 
I would have my spirit filled the more 

With grateful love to Thee — 
More careful than to serve Thee much. 

To please Thee perfectly. 

There are briers besetting every patih, 
That call for patient cai-e ; 



zzx 



rF 



^, ^ 

18 THE BORDERLANDS. 

There is a crook in every lot, 

And a need lor earnest prayer ; 
But a lowly heart that leans on TLeo, 

Is bai)py everywhere. 

In a service that Thy love appoints, 

There are no bonds for me, 
For my secret heart is taught the truth 

That makes Thy children " free ;" 
And a life of self-renouncing love 

Is a life of liberty. 



THE BORDER-LANDS. 

FATHER, into Thy loving hands 
My feeble spirit I commit, 
While wandering in these Border-Lands, 
Until Thy voice shall summon it. 

Father, I would not dare to choose 
A longer life, an earlier death ; 

] know not what my soul might lose 
By shortened or protracted breath. 

These Border-Lands are calm and still, 
And solemn are their silent shades ; 

And my heart welcomes them, until 
The light of life's long evening fndes. 



-^ ^ 

■— ' THE nORDERLAXDS. 19 * — ■ 

I heard thciu spoken of with dread, 

As fearful and unquiet places ; 
Shades, where the living and the dead 

Look sadly in each other's faces. 

But. since Thy hand hath led me here, 

And I have seen the Border-Land ; 
Seen the dark river flowing near, 

Stood on its brink, as now I stand, 

There has been notliing to alarm 

My trembling soul ; how could I fear 
While thus encircled with Thine arm? 

I never felt Tliee half so near. 

\Vhat should appal me in a place 

That brings me hourly nearer Thee ? 
When I may almost see Thy face — 

Surely 'tis here my soul would be. 

Tliey say the waves are dark and deep, 

Tiiat iaith has perished in the river ; 
'Iliey speak of death with fear, and weep 

Shall my soul perish ? Never ! never ! 

1 know that Thou Avilt never leave 

Tlie soul that trembles while it clings 
To Thee : I know Thou wilt achieve 

Its passage on Tliine outspread wings. 



4. 



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-* ^ 

\ — ' 20 ''ALL, ALL IS KNOWN TO TUEE:'' *— • 



And since I first was brought so near 
The stream that flows to the Dead Sea, 

r think that it has grown more clear 
And shallow than it used to be. 

I can not see the golden gate 
Unfolding yet, to welcome me ; 

[ can not yet anticipate 
The joy of heaven's jubilee ; 

But I will camly watch and pray 
Until I hear my Saviour's voice 

Calling my happy soul away, 
To see his glory, and rejoice. 



"•ALL, ALL m KNOWN TO THEE:' 

"WiizN my spirit 'was overwhelmed within me, then Tliou 
knewest my path." 

MY God, whose gracious pity I may claim, 
Calling Thee Father — sweet, endeari:!,'^ 
name I 
Tlie sufferings of this Aveak and weary frame, 
All, all are known to Thee. 



4. 



From human eye 'tis better to conceal 
Much that I suffer, much I hourly feel ; 
But oh ! the thought does tranquillize and heal- 
AU, all Is known to Thee. 



^ 



f 



ALL, ALL IS KXOWX TO TMEE^ 2/ 



^ 



Each secret conilict with indwelling sin, 
Each sickening fear I ne'er the prize shall \^'m^ 
Each pang from irritation, turmoil, din — 
All, all are known to Thee. 

\Vlien in the morning unrefreshed I wake, 
Or in the night but little sleep can take, 
This brief appeal submissively I make — 
All, all is known to Thee. 

Nay, all by Thee is ordered, chosen, planned — 
Each drop that fills my daily cup ; Thy hand 
Prescribes for ills none else can understand. 
All, all is known to Thee. 

The clTectual means to cure what I deplore ; 
In me Thy longed-for likeness to restore ; 
Self to dethrone, never to govern more — 
All, all are known to Thee. 

And this continued feebleness, this state 
^^Hiich seems to unnerve and incapacitate, 
Will work the cure my hopes and prayers await- 
That can I leave to Thee. 

Nor will the bitter draught distasteful prove, 
When I recall the Sox of Thy dear love ; 
The cup Thou wouldst not forowrsakes rcmovo— 
That cup He drank for me. 

^ j^ 



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22 on I FOR TUE HAPPY DA YS GOl^'i: BY. 



Ha drank it to tlie dregs — no drop reniainctl 
Of "wrath, for those whose cup of woe he drained 
Man ne'er can know what that sad cup contalnod, 
All, all is known to Thee. 

Ayd welcome, precious^ can lEs Spirit make 
My little drop of suffering for His sake, 
leather, the cup I drink, the patli I take, 
All, all is known to Thee. 



OH! FOR THE HAPPY BAYS GONE BY 

Oil ! for the happy days gone by, 
When love ran smooth and free ; 
Days when my spirit so enjoyed 
More than earth's liberty ! 

Oh ! for the times when on my heart 

Long prayer had never palled, 
Times when the ready thought of God 

Would come when it was called ! 

Then when I knelt to meditate. 

Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul, 
Countless, and bright, and beautiful, 

Beyond my own control. 

Oil ! who hath lockol those fountains up ? 
Those vIsIoTis Avho hath staid ? 

i^ r^ 



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OH! FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GON-E BY. 23 



^V^^at sudden act liatb tlms transformed 
My sunsliine into shade ? 

riiis freezing heart, O Lord ! this -will, 

Dry as the desert sand — 
Good thoughts that will not come, bad thonghl 

That come without command — 

A faith that seems not faith, a hope 

That cares not for its aim — 
A love that none the hotter grows 

At Jesus' blessed name — 

The weariness of prayer, the mi&t 

O'er conscience overspread — 
The chill repugnance to frequent 

The feast of angels' bread : 

li^ this drear change be Thine, O Lortl ! 

If it be Thy sweet will, 
Sparc not, but to the very brim 

The bitter chalice fill ; 

But if it hath been sin of mine, 

Oh ! show that sin to me — 
Not to get back the sAveetness lost, 

But to make peace with Tliee. 

One thing alone, dear Lord, I dread — 
To have a secret spot 



4 



24 OTT! FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GONE BY. 



+ 



That separates my soul from Thee, 
And yet to know it not. 

Oh ! when the tide of graces set 

So full upon my heart, 
I know, dear Lord, how faithlessly 

I did my little part. 

I know how well my heart hath earned 

A chastisement like this, 
In trifling many a grace away 

In self-complacent bliss. 

But if this weariness hath come 

A present from on high, 
Teach me to find the hidden wealth 

That In Its depths may lie ; 

So in this darkness I can learn 

To tremble and adore, 
To sound my own vile nothingness, 

And thus to love Thee more ; 

To love Thee, and yet not to think 

That I can love so much ; 
To have Thee with me, Lord ! all day 

Yet not to feel TTiy touch. 

If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire. 
Hire which Tliv beauty showed, 

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LOST TREASUEES. 25 



h 



All ! I can serve Thee now for naught, 
And only as my God. 

Oh ! blessed be this darkness, then, 

This deep in which I lie ; 
And blessed be all things that teach 

God's dread supremacy ! 



LOST TREASURES. 

LET us be patient, God has taken from us 
The earthly treasures upon which we leaned, 
That from the fleeting things which lie around us, 
Our clinging hearts should be for ever Aveaned. 

They have passed from us — all our broad posses- 
sions : 
Ships, whose white sails flung wide past distant 
shores ; 
Ijands, whose rich harvests smiled in the glad sun- 
shine ; 
Silver and gold, and all our hoarded stores. 

And, dearer far, the pleasant home where gathered 
Our loved and loving round the blazing hearth j 

VVTicre honored age on the soft cushions rested, 
And childhood played about in frohc mirth. 



4 



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26 LOST THE AS CUES. 



Where underneath the softened light bent kindiy 
The mother's tender ghincc on daughters fair, 

And he on whom all leant witli fond confiding. 
Rested contented from his daily care. 

A.11 shipwrecked in one common desolation ! 

Tlie garden-walks by other feet are trod ; 
Xlie clinging vines by other fingers tutored 

To lling their shadows o'er the grassy sod. 

"^nille carklng care and <lecp humiliation, 
In tears are mingled with their daily bread; 

And the rude blasts we never thought could reach 
us. 
Have spent their worst on each defenseless head. 

Let us be cheerful ! The same sky o'erarches — 
Soft rain falls on the evil and the good ; [ing 

On narrow walls, and through our humbler dwell 
God's glorious sunshine pours as rich a Hood. 

Faith, hope, and love still in our hearts abiding, 
May bear their precious fruits in us tlic saroc ; 

And to the couch of suirerlng we may carry, 
If but the cup of water, in Ills name. 

l>et us be thankful, if in this aflllction 
No grave is opened for the loving heart ; 

And while we bend beneath our Father's chiding, 
\Vc yet can mourn " each family a])art." 

4i ^ 



^ ^ ^ 

■ SCXDAY. 27 

Shoulder to shoulder let us breast the torrent, 
With not one cold reproach nor angry look ; 

There are some seasons, when the heart is sniitton, 
It can no Avhlsper of unkhulness brook. 

()ur Hie Is not in all these brief possessioiis ; 

Our home is not in any pleasant spot : 
Pilgrims and strangers we must journey onward, 

Contented with the portion of our lot. 

These earthly walls must shortly be dismantled ; 

These earthly tents be struck by angel hands ; 
But to be built up on a sure foundation. 

There, where our Father's mansion ever stands 

There shall we meet, parent and child, and dearer 
Tliat earthly love which makes half heaven of 
home ; 
I'hcre shall we find our treasures all awaiting, 
AVhere change and death and parting never 
come. 



S U X D A Y. 

"I WA3 in tho spirit on tlie Lord's day."— Rev. 1 : 10. 

A FTER long days of storms and showers, 
.i~\_ Of sighing winds, and dripping bowers, 
How SAveet, at morn, to ope our eyes 
On newly *• swept and garnished " skica! 



^ ^ 

I 28 SUVDA Y. 



To miss the clouds, and driving rain, 
And see that all is bright again — 
So bright "vve cannot choose but say, 
Is this the world of yesterday ? 

Even so, methinks, the Sunda}' brings 
A change o'er all familiar things ; 
A change — we know not whence it camo- 
They are, and they are not, the same. 

There is a spell within, around. 
On ey& and ear, on sight and sound , 
And, loth or willing, they and we 
Must own this day a mystery. 

Sure all things wear a heavenly dress 
That sanctifies their loveliness. 
Types of that endless resting-day, 
When " we shall all be changed " as they 

To-day our peaceful, ordered homo 
Forcshadoweth mansions yet to como , 
We foretaste, in domestic love, 
The faultless charities above. 

And as at yester-eventido 
Our tasks and toys were laid aside ; 
Lo ! li ?re our training for the day 
Wber. we shall lay tliem down for ave. 



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snTWAY. 29 



But not alone for musings deep, 
Meek souls their " day of days " will keep ; 
Yet other glorious things than these, 
The Christian in his Sabbath sees. 

His eyes, by faith, his Lord behold ; 
How on the week's first day of old 
From hell he rose, on Death he trod, 
■ Was seen of men, and went to God. 

And as we fondly pause to look 
Where in some daily-handled book, 
Approval's weU-known tokens stand, 
Traced by some dear and thoughtful hand 

Even so there shines one day in seven, 
Bright with the special mark of Heaven, 
That we with love and praise may dwell 
On Him who loveth us so well. 

Whether in meditativ-e walk, 
Alone with God and heaven we talk. 
Catching the simple chime that calls 
Our feet to some old church's walls ; 

Or passed within the church's door, 
Where poor are rich, and rich are poor 
We say the prayers, and hear the word, 
Which there our fathers said and heard ; 

^^1— — Tp- 



-tj^— ^ 

30 su:s^£>A r. 

Or represent in solemn wise, 
Our all-prevailing sacrifice ; 
Feeding in joint communion high, 
The life of faith that cannot die. 

And surely, in a world like this, 
So rife with woe, so scant of bliss — 
Where fondest hopes are oftenest crossed, 
And fondest hopes are severed most ; 

'Tis something that we kneel and pray 
With loved ones near and far away ; 
One God, one faith, one hope, one care, 
One form of words, one hour of prayer. 

*Tis just — yet pause, till ear and heart. 
In one brief silence, ere we part. 
Somewhat of that high strain have caught 
" The peace of God which passeth thought.' 

Then turn we to our earthly homes. 
Not doubting but that Jesus comes 
Breathing his peace on hall and hut 
At evening, when the doors are shut ; 

Then speeds us on our work-day way, 
And hallows every common day ; 
Without Him Sunday's self were dim, 
But all are bright, if spent ic'dh Him, 



* 



4 



^ — *- 



-^ 



ONE BY ONE. 33 



OiV^ B Y ONE. 

ONE by one tlie sands arc Howing 
One by one the moments fall, 
Some are coming, some are going — 
Do not strive to grasp them all. 

One by one thy duties wait thee, 
Let thy whole strength go to each ; 

Let no future dreams elate thee ; 

Learn thou first what those can tea<;h. 

One by one, (bright gifts from heaven,) 
Joys are sent thee here below ; 

Take them readily, when given — 
Ready, too, to let them go. 

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, 
Do not fear an armed band ; 

One will fade, while others greet thee, 
Shadows passing through the land. 

Do not look at life's long sorrow, 
See how small each moment's pain ; 

God will help thee for to-morrow — 
Every day begin again. 

Every hour that fleets £0 slowly, 
Has its task to do or bear; 



-^ 



% 



32 JfARY'S CHOICE. 



Lurnlnous the crown, and holy, 
K thou set each gem with caix. 

Do not linger -with regretting, 
Or for passion's hour despond ; 

Nor, the daily toll forgetting, 
Look too eagerlj beyond 

Hours are golden links, God's token, 
Reaching heaven, but one by one 

Take them, lest the chain be broken 
Ere the pilgrimage be done. 



MARTS CHOICE. 

JESUS, engrave It on my heart, 
That Thou the one thing needful art; 
I could from all things parted be, 
But never, never, Lord, from Thee. 

Needful is Thy most precious blood, 
Needful is Thy correcting rod. 
Needful is Thy indulgent care. 
Needful Thy all-prevailing prayer. 

Needful Thy presence, dearest Lord, 
True peace and comfort to afford ; 



*- 



^ 



"^ NEARER HOME." 83 

Needful Thy promise to impart 
Fresh life and vigor to my heart. 

Needful art Thou to be my stay 
Through all life's dark and thorny way ; 
Nor less in death Thou'lt needful he, 
To bring my spirit home to Thee. 

Then needful still, my God, my King, 
Thy name eternally 111 sing ; 
Glory and praise be ever His — 
The " one thing needful " Jesus is. 



''NEARER IIOMEP 

ONE sweetly solemn thought 
Comes to me o'er and o'er : 
Tm nearer home to-day 

Than I ever have been before. 

Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansions be \ 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the jasper sea ; 

Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burdens down ; 



% 



^ 



J 4 oil! TO EE ItllADY. 



^ 



Nearer leaving t.Lc cross. 
Nearer wearing the crown. 

But lying darkly between, 

Winding down through the nighti 
Is the dim and unknown stream 

That leads at last to the light. 

Closer, closer my steps 

Come to the dark abysm, 
Closer, death to my lips 

Presses the awful chrism. 

Saviour, perfect my trust, 

Strengthen the might of my faith. 
Let me feel as I would when I stand 

On the rock of the shore of death ; 

Feel as I would when my feet 
Are slipping over the brink ; 

For it may be I'm nearer home, 
Nearer now than I tliink. 



Oil! TO BE READY. 

OH ! to be ready when death shall come 
Oh ! to be ready to hasten home ! 
No earthward clinging, no lingering gaze, 
No strife at parting, no sore amaze : 



^ ^ 

r— ' 7'I/A' BRIDEGROOM'S OOVhl. ob ' — • 

No cliajiis to sever that earth hath tv/incJ. 
Xo spell to loosen that love would bind. 

No flitting shadows to dim the light 
Of the angel-pinions Avinged for flight , 
No cloud-like phantoms to fling a gloom 
'Twixfc heaven's bright portals and earth's daik 

tomb ; 
But sweetly, gently, to pass away 
From the Avorld's dim twilight into day. 

To list the music of angel lyres, 
To catch the rapture of seraph fires, 
To lean in trust on the risen One, 
'J'ill borne away to a fadeless throne. 
Oh ! to be ready when death shall como ! 
Oh ! to be ready to hasten liome ! 



THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 

•' MY Dove ! in Uie clefts of the rock, in the secret of the 
stairs."— Cant. 2 : 14. 



k4 



MYD 
whom ? 
AMiom, think'st thou, meaneth He ? 
Say, O my soul I canst thou presume 
He tluis addrc?se.t,h thee ? 



^ 



4^ 



^ 



36 ^^^' liKJUL'GKOOMS DVI'E. 

Yes, 'tis the Br'ulegrooni's voice of love, 
Callinc^ thee, O my soul 1 His Dovcl 

The Dove Is gentle, mild, and meek : 

Deserve 1, then, the name 'i 
I look within in vain to seek 

Aught ■which can give a claim : 
Yet, made so by redeeming love. 
My soul, thou art the Bridegroom's Dove I 

Methinks, my soul, that thou may'st sec, 

In this endearing word, 
Reasons why Jesus likens thee 

To this defenseless bird ; 
Reasons which show the Bridegroom's love 
To Ilis poor helpless, timid Dove ! 

The Dove, of all the feathered tribe. 

Doth least of power possess 
My soul, what better can describe 

Thine utter helplessness ? 
Yet courage take ! the Bridegroom's lovo 
Will keep, defend, protect Kis Dove ! 

The Dove hath neither claw nor sting, 

Nor weapon for the fight ; 
She owes her safety to her wing, 

Her victory to flight. 



i 



-itr 



^ 



THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 87 



A sLeltcr hath the Bridegroom's love 
Provided for his helpless Dove . 

Tlie Hawk comes on, in eager chase — 

The Dove "will not resist ; 
Iii flying to her hiding-place, 

Her safety doth consist. 
The Bridegroom opes His arms of Ioto, 
And in them folds His panting Dove ! 

Nothing the Dove can now molest. 
Safe from the fowler's snare ; 

The Bridegroom's bosom is her nest — 
Nothing can harm her there. 

Encircled by the arms of love, 

Almighty power protects the Dove ! 

As the poor Dove, before the I lawk. 

Quick to her refuge flies. 
So need I, in my daily walk. 

The wing which faith supplies, 
To bear me where the Bridegrooju's love 
Places beyond all harm Ilis Dove ! 

Sty soul of native power bereft, 
'Jo Calvary repoii's 



f 



88 TBi: BRIDEGROOM'S DOFE, 



Immanucl is the rochj clef), 

" The secret of (lie stairs ! ** 
Since placed there by the Bridei^roonrs lovo. 
What eviJ can befall His Dove ? 

Though Sinai's thunder round her roars, 

Though Ebal's lightnings flash, 
Though heaven a fiery torrent i)ours. 

And riven mountains crash — 
Tlirough all, the " still small voice " of love 
WHiispers : " Be not afraid, my Dove ! " 

What though the heavens away may pass, 

AVith fervent heat dissolve ; 
And round the sun this earthly mass 

No longer shall revolve ! 
Behold a miracle of love ! 
The Hon quakes, but not the Dove ! 

My soul, now hid within a rock, 

(The " Rock of Ages " called,^ 
Amid the universal shock 

Is fearless, unappalled. 
A cleft therein, prepared by love, 
In safety hides the Bridegroom's Dove I 

O happy Dove I thus weak, thus safe 
Do I resemble her ? 

k^ — ^ 



^ 



OOD MY EXCEEDIXG JOY. 39 



Then to my soul, O Lord ! vouclisafrt 

A dove-like character ! 
Pure, harmless, gentle, full of love, 
Make me in spirit, Lord, a Dove I 

O Tliou, who on the Bridegroom's head 

Didst, as a Dove, come down, 
Within my soul Thy graces shed, 

Establish there Thy throne ; 
There shed abroad a Saviour's love, 
Thou holy, pure, and heavenly Dove ! 

S. 11. M 



GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 

PaiLM 43 : 4. 

EARLY my spirit turned 
From earthly things away, 
And agonized and yearned 

For the eternal day ; 
Dimly I saw, when but a boy, 
God, my exceeding joy. 



fa days of fiercer ilame. 
When passion m-ged me on, 

'Twas only bhss in name — 
The pleasure soon was gone. 



"H"! 



4r 



^ 



4^ 



40 OOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 



Compared -with Tliee, how all things cloy. 
God, my exceeding joy ! 

At length the moment came — 
Jesus made known Ilis love ; 

High shot the kindling flame 
To glories all above. 

Now all my poAvers one theme employ 
God, my exceeding joy. 

Shadows came on apace ; 

Tears were a pensive shower ; 
I cried for timely grace 

To save me from the hour ; 
Thou gavest peace without alloy, 

God, my exceeding joy. 

One trial yet awaits, 

Gigantic at the close ; 
All that my spmt hates 

May then my peace oppose ; 
Hut God shall this last foe destroy 

God, ray exceeding joy. 



r 



4h 



GOD'S SUPPORT AXD GUIDANCE. 4] 



GOD'S SUrFORT.AXB GUILANL'E. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GKHMAN, 

I710RSAKE me not, my God, 
. Thou God of my salvation ! 
Give me Thy light, to be 

My sure illumination. 
My soul to folly turns, 

Seeking she knows not what ; 
Oh ! lead her to thyself — 
My God, forsake me not ! 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

Take not Thy Spirit from me 
And suffer not the might 

Of sin to overcome me. 
A father pitieth 

The children he begot ; 
My Father, pity me — 

My God, forsake me not. 

Forsake me not, my God I 

Thou God of life and power, 
Enliven, strengthen me 

In every evil hour ; 
And when the sinful fire 

"Within my heart is hot, 

^ ^ 



r 



(;oj)'s srrronT Axr guidanud 



4. 



Be not Thou far from me — 
My God, forsake me not I 

Forsake mc not, my God 1 

Uphold me in my going, 
That evermore I may 

Please Thee in all Avcll-doing, 
And that Thy will, O Lord ! 

May never be forgot, 
In all my works and ways — 

My God, foi-sake me not! 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

1 would be thine for ever I 
Confirm me mightily 

In every right endeavor: 
And when my hour is come, 

Cleansed from all stain and spot 
Of sin^ receive my soul — 

My God, forsake mc not I 



^ 



* :>t 



/ .4Jf- 43 



/ A Af. 



" God calls himself 1 AM, leaving a blank which C3yc)i sou 
mny fill up with that which rs most precious to hiingolf.'" 



rjnllOUbiddst us (.-all, and glv'st us many a 
_J_ nanu;, 

Thai thou niay'st hoar and answer every cry 
But — for tlie wants of all are not the same — 
Another name Thy wondrous love did try ; 
To ^Moses first Tlioa gav'st it, and he knew 
Its worth, and taught us how to j)rizc it, too : 
I AIM — let every sinner kneel, and thank 
The Lord, and with his wants fill up the blank. 
Thy very Avounds do say, pach drop they bleed, 
" I AIM thy need"^." 

Oh ! I am weary of this life, 

Of all its vanity and care ; 
Where can I hide me from its strife, 

From all its noises — where? 
IMy spirit sinlcs beneath the load, 
I pant to reach a safe abode. 
When shall I find a sweet release? 
Remains there yet a lasting peace, 
A. calm for my long storm-tost breast? 
" I AM thy rest." 



^ — — ^ 

(3h ! I am full of grievous sin, 
I can do naught that's right ; 

God ! how base my soul is in 
Thy f/ure and holy sight I 

I'hy perfect laws I daily, hourly break, 
And will not yield my will for Tliy sAvcet sake. 
Still in my soul do burn wicked desires, 
And my heart's altar bears unhallowed fires 5 

1 can do naught but all these things confess. 
" I AM thy righteousness." 

But, Lord, I am so weak, so weak, • 

I cannot stand before Thy face ; 
Thy praises I can hardly speak, 

Hardly stretch forth my hands for grace ; 
The way seems long, the burden who can bear 
Lord, must I sink beneath the load of care ? 
Thus is it now ; what shall It be at length ? 
" I A]\I thy strength." 

Lord, I must die ; e'en now the wing 

Of Tliy dread angel hovereth nigh ; 
I know the message he doth bring — 

" Soul, thou hast sinned, and thou must die'' 
All nature feels and owns the just decree ; 
And is this all that is in store for me — 
Ashes to ashes, du§t to kindred dust. 
No hopo, no light? Surely my spirit must 

^ ^ 



i H 



A LITTLE WHILE. 46 



^ 



Sink Id despair ere nature''s last, fierce strife — 
" I AM thy life." 

Oh 1 wondertul Thou artl 

Too wonderful for me is such great love. 
Shining in such a heart 

Like sunbeams from above. 
How rich am 1 1 yea, all things I possess — 
Peace, joy, life, strength, and perfect rightecis- 

ness. 
Jehovah shoAvs Himself, and gives to me 
All my desire. Look, trembling soul ! and sco 
On what a treasury thy want may call — 
" I Ml thine all in aU." 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

BEYOND the smiling and the weeping 
I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet hope ! 



^ ^ rft 



4 



46 A LITTLE \^ITILE. 



Beyontl ilie blooming and the fading 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the rising and tlie setting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the gathering and the strewino 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, 
Beyond the coming and the going, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sw^eet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the parting and the meeting 
T shall be soon , 



f 



dllJDtCli ME Mo'f 4/ 



^ 



Beyond the farewell and the <;ieeLin2, 
Beyond this pulse's fever beatinc^. 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the rock-waste and the river. 
Beyond the ever and the never, ' 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



HINDER ME NOT. 

HLS'DER me not ! the path is long and weary, 
I may not pause nor tarry by the way ; 
Kight Cometh, when no man may jommey onwarsl 
For we must walk as children of the day. 

I know the city lieth fair behind me. 
The very brightest gem that studs the plain 

But thick and fast the lurid clouds are rising, 
^hich soon shall scatter into fiery rain 



V- 



4j ^ — 4f 

r-J 48 niA'DER ME NOT 



I oiuiit press on until 1 reach my Zoar, 
And there find refuge from the fearful blast' 

In Thy cleft side, O smitten Saviour! hide me. 
Till the calamity be overpast. 

Ye cannot tempt me back with pomp or pleasure 
All, in my eager grasp, have turned to dust. 

The shield of love around my hearth is broken \ 
How shall I place on man's frail life ray trust 7 

But my heart lingers when I pass the dwellings 
AVliere children play about the open door ; 

And pleasant voices waken up the echoes, 
From silent lips of those I see no more. 

tor through their chambers swept the solemn 
warning. 
Arise ! depart ! for this is not your rest ; 
riiey folded their pale hands and sought the pres- 
ence — 
I only bore the arrow in my breast. 

sJut there is balm in Gilcad, and a Healer 
"Whose sovereign poAver can cure our every LLl 

A.nd to the soul, more wildly tempest-tossing 
Than ever Galilee, say : " Peace, be still !" 

Who, showing His own name thereon engraven. 
With bleeding hands will draw the dait again. 

k^ ^ 



+ 



And wliisper : " Should the true disciple murnmr 
To taste the cup his Master's lip could drain ?'* 

And then lead on, until we reach the river 
Which all must cross, and some must cross 
alone ; 

Oh ! ye who in the land of peace are wearied, 
How shall ye breast the Jordan's swelling moan ? 

[ know not if the wave shall rage or slumber, 
When I shall stand upon the nearer shore ; 

Rut one whose form the Son of God resembleth, 
Will cross with me, and I shall ask no more. 

O weary heads ! rest on your Saviour's bosom. 

O weary feet ! press on the path He trod. • 
O weary souls ! your rest shall be remaining, 

When ye have gained the city of your God. 

O glorious city ! jasper built, and shining 
With God's own glory in effulgent light, 

Wlierein no manner of defilement cometh, 
Nor any shadow flung from passing night. 

There shall ye pluck fruits from that tree immortal 
And be like gods, but find no curse therein. 

ITiere shall ye slake your thirst in that full fount- 
ain [sin. 
Whose distant streams sufficed to cleanse your 



% 



HINDER ME NOT. 49 



^ 




'f 



* 



50 •/ CLixG TO thee:' 



There shall ye find your dead in Chi-lst arisen, 
And learn firom them to sing the angels' song , 

Well may ye echo from earth's waiting prison, 
The martyr's cry : " How long, O Lord I how 
lonn !*' 



"/ CLING TO thee:'' 

OIIOLY Saviour, Friend unseen ! 
Since on Tliine arm thou bidst me lean, 
Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
By faith I chng to Tliee. 

Blest with this fellowship divine, 
Take what Thou wilt, I'll ne'er repine : 
E'en as the branches to the vine. 

My soul would cling to Thee. 

Far from her home, fatigued, oppressed, 
Here has she found her place of rest, 
An exile still, yet not unblessed, 

AVhile she can cling to Thee. 

What though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove 
With patient uncomplaining love, 
Still would I cHuiT to Thee. 



^ 



■ip "— ^ 



*'ALOyE, YET NOT ALONS:' 51 



^ 



Thougli faith and Lope may long be tried, 
I ask not, need not auglit beside ; 
How safe, how cabn, how satisfied, 
The soul that clings to Thee I 

They fear not Satan, nor the grave ; 
They feel Thee near, and strong to save ; 
Nor dread to cross e'en Jordan's wave, 
Because they cling to Thee. 

Blest Is my lot — whatc'er befall ; 
AVTiat can disturb me —who appall ? 
AVTiile, as my strength, my rock, my all, 
Saviour ! I clin^r to Thee. 



''ALONE, YET NOT ALONE:' 

WHEN no kind earthly friend is near, 
With gentle words my heart to cheor 
Still am I Avith my Saviour dear : 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

Though no loved forms ray path attend, 
With tender looks o'er me to bend, 
V^et am I with my unseen Friend : 
" Alone, yet not alone." 

When sorely racked with pain and grief. 
Here 1 can find a sure relief: 



4^ 



62 TRS SCHOOL OF SUFFERING, 




And I rejoice in the belief: 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

'Tis on His strength that I rely, 
And doubts and fears at once defy, 
So happy, so content am I, 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

E'en when with friends my lot is cast, 
And words of love are flowing fast, 
Still am I, when those hours are past, 
" Alone, yet not alone." 

If all my earthly friends remove. 
My fondest wishes empty prove. 
Still am I with my Saviour's love 
" Alone, yet not alone. 

Whate'er may now to me betide, 
1 have a place wherein to hide 
By faith; 'tis e'en at His blest side: 
" Alone, yet not alone." 



THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERINO, 

SAVIOUR, beneath Thy yoke 
My wayward heart doth pico ; 
All unaccustomed to the stroke 
Of love divine : 



^ 7t 

^'iZS' SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 53 

Thy cbastisements, my God, are hard to bear. 
Thy cross is heavy for frail llesh to wear. 

" Perishing child of clay ! 

Thy sighing I have heard ; 
Long have I marked thy evil way, 
How thou hast erred I 
Yet fear not, by my own most holy name 
I will shed healing through thy sin-sick frame. 

Praise to Thee, gracious Lord ! 

I fain would be at rest ; 
Oh ! now fulfil Thy faithful word 
And make me blest ; 
My soul would lay her heavy burden down, 
And take, with joyfulncss, the promised crown. 

" Stay, thou short-sighted child ! 
There is much first to do, 
Thy heart, so long by sin defiled, 
1 must renew ; 
Thy will must here be taught to bend to mine, 
Or the sweet peace of heaven can ne'er be thino. 

Yea, Lord, but Thou canst soon 

Perfect Thy work in me, 
Till, like the pure, calm summer noon 

I shine by Theo \ 



^ 



r"^ 54 TME SCHOOL OF SUFFERIXO. 

A moment sliinc, that all Thy power may trace, 
T]ien pass in stillness to my heavenly place. 

" Ah ! coAvard soul, confess 

Thou shrinkest from my cure, 
Thou tremblest at the sharp distres 
Thou must endure, 
rhe foes on every hand for war arrayed, 
The thorny path in tribulation laid ; 

" The process slow of years, 
The discipline of life ; 
Of outward woes and secret tears, 
Sickness and strife ; 
Thine idols taken from thee one by one, 
Till thou canst dare to live with me alone. 

" Some gentle souls there are, 
Who j-ield unto my love, 
Who, ripening fast beneath my care, 
I soon remove ; 
Hut thou stiff-necked art, and liard to i-ulc ; 
Thou must stay longer in aflliction's school" 

l^Iy Maker and my Ivlng ! 
Is this Thy love to me ? 
Oh ! that I had the lightning's wing. 
From eartli to flee : 

V J 



I — TITE SCHOOL OF SUFFERiyO. 55 ^ 

How can I bear tlie heavy weight of woes 
Thine indignation on the creatui'e throws ? 

*' Thou canst not, O my child 1 
So hear my voice again ; 
I will bear all thy anguish wild, 
Thy grief, thy pain ; 
Myarins shall be around thee, day by day, 
My smile shall cheer thee on thy heavenward way, 

" h\ sickness, I will be 

AYatching beside thy bed, 
In sorrow thou shalt lean on me 
Thy aching head , 
In every struggle thou shalt conqueror prove, 
Nor death itself shall sever from my love." 

O grace beyond compare ! 

love most high and pure 1 
Saviour, begin, no longer spare, 

1 can endure ; 
Only vouclisafe Thy grace, that I may live 
Unto Thy glory who canst so forgivo. 




4J It 



56 TUJi riLGiiijis n'AXTS. 



THE FILGRDrS WANTS. 

TAWVNT that adorning divine, 
Thou, only, my God, canst bestow ; 
r ^vant in those beautiful garments to shine, 
Wliich distinguish Thy household below. 

Col. 3:12-17. 

I want, oh ! I want to attain 

Some likeness, my Saviour, to Thee : 

That longed-for resemblanec once more to regain, 
Thy comeliness put upon me. 

1 John 3 : 2, 3. 

1 want to be marked for Thy own ; 

Thy seal on my ibrehead to wear ; 
To receive that ''new name" on the mystic white 

stone, 
Which only Thyself canst declare. 

l?cv. 2:17. 

I >vant, every moment, to feel 

That the Spirit does dwell in. my heart, 
Ti\at His power is present to cleanse and to heal. 

And newness of life to impai-t. 

Kom. S: 11 -la 

I want so in Thee to abide. 

As to bring forth some fruit to Thy praise; 



■^ ^ 

' THE PILO RIM'S WANTS. 57 

The branch that Thou pninest, though Ibeblc «•;(! 
dried, 
!May languish, but never decays, 

John 15 . 2-5. 

I want Tiihie own hand to uubhid i 

Kach tie to terrestrial things. 
Too tenderly cherished, too closely entwined, 

Wheie my heart too tenaciously clings. 

1 John 2 : 13. 

I want, by my aspect serene. 

My actions and words, to declare 
That my treasure is placed in a country unseen, 

That my heart and aflections are there. 

Matt. G: 19-21. 

I want, as a traveller, to haste 

Straight onward, nor pause on my way ; 
No forethought or anxious contrivance to waste 

On my tent, only pitched for a day. 

Heb. 13:5, C. 

I v/ant (and this sums up my prayer) 

To glorify Thee till I die ; 
Then calmly to yield up my soul to Thy caro, 

And breathe out in prayer my last sigh. 

PhU. 3:8, 9 



in 



I — I 58 ITEAVEN. 



^h 



% 



U EA VSN. 

Oil ! Leaven Is nearer than mortals tliiuk, 
When they look with a trembling dread 
At the misty future that stretches on, 
From the silent home of the dead. 

'TIs no lone isle on a boundless main, 

No brilliant but distant shore, 
^'Thcre the lovely ones who arc called away 

Must go to return no more. 

No, heaven is near us ; the mighty veil 

Of mortality blinds the eye, 
That we cannot see the angel bands, 

On the shores of eternity. 

The eye that shuts in a dying hour 

Will open the next in bliss ; 
The welcome will sound in the heavenly world, 

Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends, 
To the arms of the loved and lost, 

And those smiling faces will greet us there, 
Which on cai-th we have valued most. 

i'ct oft in the hom-s of holy thought, 
To the tliirsting soul is given 



j^ll "^ Ll|- 



A VOICE FROM BE A YE ^. 50 



Tliat power to pierce tliroigli the mist of sense, 
To the beauteous scenes of heaven. 

Tlien very near seem its pearly gates. 

And sweetly its harpings fall ; 
Till the soul is restless to soar away, 

And longs for the angel's call. 

I knoAv when the silver cord is loosed, 

When the veil is rent away, 
Not long and dark shall the passage bo, 

To the realms of endless day. 



A VOICE FROM HE A VEK 

ISiriNE in the hght of God, 
His image stamps my brow ; 
Through the shadows of Death my feet have trod. 

And I reign in glory now. 
No breaking heart is here. 

No keen and thrilling pain, 
No wasted cheek, where the burning tear 
■ Ilalh rolled, and left its stain. 

1 have found the joys of heaven, 

I am one of the angel band ; 
To my head a crown is given, 

And a harp is in my liand ; 



^ 



■4 



()0 



.1 VOICF: FliO-U I/ITAVKX. 



^ 



I have loarnod Uio soiii^; thoy siui^, 
Whom Jesus liatli made iroe, 

Aiul the "jjlorlous walls of heaven still riui 
^V^th my new-born melody. 

No sin, no grief, no pain — 

Safe in my happy home : 
My fears all lied, my doubts all slain,. 

My hour o{ triumph eome ; 
O friends of my mortal yinirs I 

The trusted and the true, 
Vou'ro walking still the vale of tears, 

l>ut T Avait to welcome you. 

Do I forget ? Oh ! no. 

For memory's golden chain 
Shall bind my heart to the hearth! below 

Till they meet and touch again ; 
Each link is strong and bright, 

While love's electric llame 
Flows freely down, like a river ot' light. 

To the world from whence I came. 

Ho you mourn when another star 
Shines out from the glorious sky? 

Do you weep when the voice of wai* 
And tlie ra«ie of conflict die '? 



■%> 



4 



4" 4f 

SUrPLICATION. 01 

Why then slioiild your tears roll dowu, 

Or your heart be sorely riven, 
For another gem in the Saviour's crown, 

And another soul in heaven ? 



SUPPLICATION. 

rORD, hear my prayer ! 
^ Turn not Tliinc car from my distress. 
But with Thy loving mercy bless, 
Lest I despair 

Be gi'acious, Lord ! 
My soul is oft opprest and weak ; 
Oh ! aid mc when I comfort seek 

In Thy blest word. 

My footsteps stray ; 
I wander often from the road 
Tliat leads to peace and Thee my God 

Teach Thou the way. 

Oh ! make rac pure, 
Clothe Thou my soul in spotless white, 
Tliat my acceptance in Thy sight, 

Be always sure 

Let mc be one 
Of all tlie sinless company 

^ ^ ^ 



4^ % 

^2 EVENjya PRAYEE. 

Tliat round Tliy tlirone liosannahs sinr^, 
Through Christ Thy Son. 

Thy will be done 
On earth, as by each holy one, 
Thy own redeemed, who near thy throne, 

Bow down the knee ! II n. 



E 



^ 



EVENING PRAYER. 

TT ATIIER of mercy ! at the close of day, 
J My work and duties done, to Thee I pray 
Before I sleep ; 
With clasped hands I humbly bow my head, 
And ask Thee, Lord, ere I retire to bed, 
My soul to keep. 

The sins and failings of the day now past, 
The shadows on my soul that they have cast, 

Do Thou forgive ; 
Oh ! purge my life from every taint of sin, 
J'hat I within Thy com'ts may enter in, 

With Thee to Uve. 

Whatever sorrow 1 this day have known, 

I spread it now, Lord I before Thy throne— 

Oh ! succor send ; 
I would beneath Thy chasten! nii lunid be still, 



■J 



THE WAXDERI.VG HEART. 63 



And meekly bow before Tby sovereign will, 
Unto the end. 

And now, with folded hand upon my breast. 
At peace with Thee, I Lay me down to rest 

Upon my bed ; 
May angels guard me through the darksome nig lit. 
From troubled dreams, until the morninc' lio-ht 

Its beams shall shed. R n. 



TEE WANDERING HEART. 

ALAS ! for the wildly wandering heart, 
And its changing idol guests 1 
It has roamed away to the world's i'ar ends. 

At the vagrant wind's behests. 
More fleet in its course than the flying dart. 
Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

Go, bind it with ]\Iemory's holiest spells, 
But it recks not the things of old ; 

Go, chain it in Gratitude's surest cells, 
With fetters more precious than gold : 

I'et ever, oh ! ever, it will depart — 
Alas ! for the wanderlnij heait. 




J 



4^ 



64 



THE WANDEllIXG HEART, 



Is it gone up to listen at heaven's gate, 
To Gabriel's lyre of praise ? 

And to catch the deep chanting whore sciraphs 
As a lesson for its mortal lays ? [wait 

) no ! for it loves from such lessons to part- 
Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

It loves on a worthless and treacherous Avorld 

To bestow its high desires ; 
And the lamp which it ought to be lignting m 

Jt kindles at idol fires. [heaven, 

Full seldom it turns to its guidinrr chart — 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

It needs to be steeped in the briny wave 
Of affliction's billowy sea, 

And salt tears must water its way to the grave, 
Ere it Avill from these vanities flee. 

It must ever be feeling the chastening smart- 
Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

My Father ! my Father ! this heart would be thine 

Kestore from its wanderings ; 
Oh ! visit and nourish thy wilderness vine, 

Though it be from the bitter springs : 
Till the years of its pruning in time shall be o'c 
And its shoots in ctermty wander no more 1 



^ 



_l4J 



'^ 



"BETURy TJTEE TO THY REST: 65 



''RETURX THEE TO THY REST:' 

RETUIIN, return tliee to thine cnly rest, 
Lone pilgrim of the Avorld ! 
Far erring from tbe fold — 
By the dark night and risen storms distressed : 
List, weary lamb, the Shepherd's anxious voice, 
And once again within His arms rejoice. 

Return, return, thy fair white lleece is soiled 

And by sharp briers rent — 

Thy httle strength is spent ; 
Yet He will pity thee, thou torn and spoiled. 
There, thou art cradled on His tender breast ; 
Now never more, sweet lamb, forsake that rest. 

Return, return, my soul ; be like this lamb ; 

Yet can it, can it be 

That thou should'st pardon me, 
lliou Injured love ! all ingrate as I am ; 
Once again, weary of earth's trifling things, 
False as the desert's far and shining springs ? 

Return, return to thy forsaken Friend, 

So long despised, forgot— 
ITiat now, thou wandering heart, 'twere just 

If He should " know thee not ;" | 

"T^ — — — rp- 



'J 



+"^] 



h 



60 yEAB JESUS. 



Yet on, press ou, towards the mercy-seat, 
And if tliou perish, perish at His feet. 

i^'cturn, return, I'or He is near thee dweilirig, 

And not into tho nir 

Need rise the sij^hs of prayer ; 
Into His car thou rt all thy sorrows telling , 
Thou necd'st not speak to Him through spaces wide, 
For He is near thee, even at tliy side. 

" Him have I pierced " — -oli ! I come, I come ; 

My heart is broken, Lord, 

It needs nor voice nor word ; 
One only look brought Peter back of yore ; 
How bitterly I weep as then he wept ! 
Henceforth, oh ! keep me, and I shall be kept. 



XEAR JESUS. 

I WANT to live near Jesus, 
And never go astray, 
To feel that I am growing 

More like Him every day ; 
That T am always laying 
My treasure up above. 
And gaining more the spirit 
Oi" His ix^'iithjie.-s. ;ind love. 



^ 



-^ 



NEAR JESU6'. 0*7 

I want such steadfast purpose 

My mission to fulfil, 
That it may be my meat and drink. 

To do my Father's will, 
To follow in Ilis footsteps, 

Who never turned aside 
From the path that leads to heaven, 

Though often sorely tried. 

Oh 1 that in His humility 

My spu'it may be clad ! 
That I may have the patience 
• My sullerinj:; Saviour had, 
A heart more disengaged 

From earth and earthly things, 
Which through life's varied trialj 

To Jesus simply clings. 

Oh i 1 shall live near Jesus, 

And never go astray. 
And every sin-defiling stain 

Shall soon be washed away ; 
And I'll bear my Master's image 

AVhen I see Him face to face, 
Then earth shall lose the power 

Its brijrhtncss to deface. 



% 



+ 



68 WirO IS MY BROTHER? 



WHO IS MY BROTHERS 

MUST I my brother keep, 
And share his pains and toil, 
And weep with those that weep, 

And smile with those that smile ; 
And act to each a brother's part, 
And feel his sorrows in my heart ? 

Must I his burden bear 
As though it were my own, 

And do as I would care 
Should to myself be done ; 

iVnd faithful to his interests prove, 

And as myself my neighbor leave ? 

Must I reprove his sin, 

Must I partake his grief, 
And kindly enter in 

And minister relief — 
Tlie naked clothe, the hungry feed, 
And love him, not in word, but deed ? 

Then, Jesus, at Thy feet 

A student let me be. 
And learn, as it is meet, 

My duty, Lord, of Thee ; 
For Thou didst come on mercy's plan, 
And all Thy life Ava« love to man. 






A+ 



PILGRIM OF EARTH. 69 



Ti. 



Ob ! make me as Thou art, 
Thy Spirit, Lord, bestow — 

The kind and gentle heart, 
That feels another's woe ; 

That thus I may be like my Head, 

And in my Saviour's footsteps tread. 



PILGRIM OF EARTH. 

PILGRIM of earth, who art journeying o 
heaven I 
Heir of Eternal Life ! child of the day I 
Cared for, watched over, beloved and forgiven — 
Art thou discouraged because of the way ? 

Cared for, watched over, though often Tliou seeme^t 

Justly forsaken, nor counted a child ; 
Loved and forgiven, though rightly Thou deemcst 

Thyself all unlovely, impure, and deSled. 

Weary and thirsty — no water-brook near thee, 
Press on, nor faint at the length of the way ; 

llie God of thy life will assuredly hear thee — 
He will provide thee strength for the day. 

Break through the brambles and briers that ob- 
struct thee. 
Dread not the gloom and the blackness of night 

■^ ^ 



+- 



70 PILGRIM OF EARTH. 



Lean on tlic hand that will safely conduct thee, 
Trust to His eye to whom darkness is light. 

Be trustful, be steadfast, whatever betide thee, 
Only one thing do thou ask of the Lord — 

Grace to go forward wherever He guide then. 
Simply believing the truth of His word. 

Still on thy spirit deep anguish is pressing, 
Not for the yoke that His wisdom bestows : 

A heavier burden thy soul is distressing, 
A heart that is slow in His love to repose. 

Karthlincss, coldness, unthankful behavior — 
Ahl thou mayest sorrow, but do not despair 

Even this grief thou mayest bring to thy Saviour 
Cast upon Him e'en this burden and care ! 

Dring all thy hardness — His power can subdue it; 

How fidl is the promise ! The blessing how frcf? 
' ^V^latsocver ye ask, in my name, I will do it. 

Abide in my love, and be joyfid in mo." 



^ ^ 




A LITTLE WHILE. 71 



WHAT IS THIS TIIATUB SAITH : A LIT- 
TLE WHILE r 



JoHX 10:18. 



OH ! for the jieace which floweth as a river, 
INIaking Life's desert-places bloom and smile. 
Oh ! for a faith to gi-asp heaven's bright " for ever," 
.Vmid the shadows of Earth's "little while." 

" A little while " for patient vigil-keeping, 
To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong ; 

" A little while " to sow the seed with weeping, 
Then bind tlie sheaves and sing the harvest-sen g 

" A little while" to wear the robe of sadness, 
To toil with weary step through erring ways; 

Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
And clasp the girdle of the robe of praise. 

'' A little while " 'mid shadow and illusion 
To strive by faith Love's mysteries to spell ; 

Then read each dark enigma's clear solution, 
Then hail Light's verdict—'^ lie <loth all thin;,' 
well." 

" A Utile while" the earthen pitcher taking 
To wayside brooks from far-otF fountains fed; 

llien the parched lip its thirst for ever slaking 
Beside the fulness of the Fountain Heaa. 




jy HEAVEy. 



^ 



" A little Avliile " to keep the oil from failing ; 

" A little while " Faith's flickering lamp to trim 
And then, the Bridegi-oom's coming footstep hailinjj 

To haste to meet Hira with the bridal hymn. 

And lie who is at once both Gift and Giver, 
Tlie future Glory, and the present smile. 

With the bright promise of the glad " for ever," 
Will light the shadows of the " little while." 



IN HEAVEN. 
" Their angels do always behold the face of my Father." 

SILENCE filled the courts of heaven, 
Hushed were seraphs' harp and tone, 
When a little new-born seraph 

Knelt before the Eternal Throne ; 
While its soft white hands were lifted, 

Clasped, as if in earnest prayer, 
And its voice, in dove-like murmurs, 

Rose Hkc music on the ear. 
Light from the full fount of Glory 

On his robes of whiteness glistened, 
And the bright-winged seraphs near Him 

Bowed their radiant lieads and listened 



h 



L. 



^ -^ 

' i^v UEAVEy. 73 ^ 

" J^ord, from Thy Throne of Glory here, 
My heart turns fondly to another ; 
O Lord ! our God, the Comforter, 

Comfort, comfort, viy sweet Mother I 
Many sorrows hast Thou sent her, 

Meekly has she drained the cup ; 
And the jewels Thou hast lent her 
Unrepining yielded up. 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Molfiir 

■•' Earth is growing lonely round her ; 
Friend and lover hast Thou taken ; 
Let her not, though woes surround her 

Feel herself by Thee forsaken. 
Let her think, when faint and weary, 

Wc arc waiting for her Jiere : 
Let each loss that makes earth dreary 
I^Iakc the hope of heaven more dear. 
Comfort, comfort, mfj sweet Mother 

'' Thou, who once In nature human, 
Dwelt on eaith a little child, 
nilowed on the breast of "Woman, 

Blessed Mary ! undefilcd. 
Thou who, from the cross of sufTering, 

I\Larked Thy Mother's tearful face. 
And bequeathed her to Thy loved quo, 
Bidding him to fill Tliy place : 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother J 

^ ^ ^ 



74 . /^ HEAVEN. 

" TLou who once, from lieavon descending, 
Tears and -woes and conflicts vron : 
Thou who, nature's laws suspending, 

Gav'st tlie widow back he- son : 
Thou who, at tlie gi-ave of Lazarus 

Wept with those who wept their dead ; 
Thou 1 wlio once in mortal anguish 
Bowed Thine own anointed head. 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet MoiJier I " 

The dove-like murmurs died away 

Upon the radiant air. 
But still the little supphant knelt 

With hands still clasped in prayer 5 
Still were those mildly-pleading eyes 

Turned to the sapphire throne, 
Till golden harp and angel voice 

Rang forth in mingled tone ; 
And as the swelling numbers flowed, 

By angel voices given, 
Klch, sweet, and clear, the anthem rolled 

Through all the courts of heaven. 
" He is the widow's God," it said, 

AVTio spared not " Ilis own Son," 
Tlio iufant cherub bowed his head — 

" T'hy will, Lord! he done." 



rf" 



1+ 



"/r IS J; BE KOT afraid:'' 75 



"/r IS I; BE NOT AFRAID.' 
MiTT. 14 : 87. 

rr"^ OSSEI) with rough winds, and fiilnt wil^ 
' X fear, 

Above the tempest, soil and clear, 
AVhat still small accents greet mine ear ? 
*TIs I ; be not afraid. 

*• 'Tis J, wlio led thy steps aright ; 
'TIs J, who gave thy blind eyes sight ; 
'Tis I, tliy Lord, thy Life, thy Light. 
'TIs I ; be not afraid. 

" These raging winds, this surging sea, 
Bear not a breath of wrath to thee ; 
That storm has all been spent on mo. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" Tills bitter cup fear not to drink ; 
I know it well — oh ! do not shrink; 
I tasted it o'er Kedron's brink. 

'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" Mine eyes are watching by thy bed, 
!Mine arms arc underneath thy head, 
My blessing is around thee shed. 
'I'ls T ; be not afraid. 

4-i — - — — ___„™__r:j:+" 



■ 78 KATURE AND FAITH. 

" "\M)en on the otlier side thy feet, 
Shall rest 'mid thousand welcomes sweet, 
One well-known voice thy heart shall greet 
'Tis I ; be not afraid." 

" From out the dazzhng majesty, 
Gently Ilell lay His hand on thee, 
Wliispering : " Beloved, lov'st thou me V 
'T%vas not in vain I died for thee. 
*TIs I : be not afraid." 



NATURE AND FAITH. 
2 Cor. 4 : 17,18. 

WE wept — 'twas Nature wept, but Faith 
Can pierce beyond the gloom of deatL 
And in yon world, so fair and bright. 
Behold thee In refulgent light ! 
We miss thee here, yet Faith would rather 
Ivnow thou art with thy heavenly Father. 

Nature sees the body dead — 

Faith beholds the spirit fled ; 

Nature stops at Jordan's tide — 

Faith beholds the other side ; 

71iat but heare forcwell and sighs, 

2%t<f, thy welcome in the skies; 



^ 



h-J ~ Lf_j_ 



XATURE AND FAITH. T 



Nature mourns a cruel blow — 

FaitJi assures it is not so ; 

Nature never sees thee more — 

Faith but sees thee gone before ; 

Nature tells a dismal story — 

Faith has visions fuU of glory ; 

Nature views the change with sadness — 

Faith contemplates it with gladness ; 

Nature murmurs — Faith gives meeknesH, 
"Strength is perfected in weakness ;" 
Nature writhes, and hates the rod — 
Faith looks up and blesses God ; 
Sense looks downwards — Faith above ; 
Tiiat sees harshness — this sees love. 
Oh ! let Faith victorious be — 
Let it reign triumphantly ! 

But thou art gone ! not lost, but flown ! 
Shall I then ask thee back, my own, 
Back — and leave thy spirit's brightness ? 
Back — and leave thy f obes of whiteness ? 
Back — and leave thin6 angeTiiKJuld ? 
Back — and leave those streets of gold ? 
Back — and leave the Lamb who feeds thee ? 
Back — from founts to which He leads thoe V 
Back — and leave thy heavenly Father ? 
Back — to earth and sin ? — Nay ; rather 

4 4- 



78 MF LAMBS. 

Would I live in solitude ! 
I would not ask tliee if I could ; 
But patient wait the higli decree, 
That calls my spirit Lome to thco ! 



MY LAMBS. 

I LOVED them so, 
lliat when the Elder Shepherd of the fold 
Came, covered with the storm, and pale and cold, 
And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold, 
I bade hira go. 

He claimed the pet — 
A little fondling thing, that to my breast 
Clung always, either in quiet or unrest — 
I thought of all my lambs I loved him best. 

And yet — and yet — 

I laid him down 
In those white, shrouded arms, with bitter tears ; 
For some voice told me that, in after-years, 
Ele should know naught of passion, grief, or fears, 

As I had known. 

And yet again 
That Elder Shepherd came. My heart grew faint 



Fp' 



MY LAMBS. 70 



He claimed another lamb, with sadJor plaint, 
Another 1 Sh? who, gentle as a saint, 
Ne'er gave me pain. 

Aghast I turned away ! 
There sat she, lovely as an angel's dreara, 
Her golden locks with sunlight all agleam, 
Her holy eyes with heaven in their beam. 

I knelt to pray. 

" Is it Tliy will ? 
My Father, say, must this pet lamb be given ? 
Oh I Thou hast many such, dear Lord, in heaven." 
And a soft voice said ; " Nobly hast thou striven j 

But — peace, be still." 

Oh I how I wept, 
And clasped her to my bosom, with a wild 
And yearning love — my lamb, my pleasant child 
Her, too, I gave. The little angel smiled, 

And slept. 

" Go! go !" I cried: 
For once again that Shepherd laid Ills hand 
Upon the noblest of our household ban-d. 
Like a pale spectre, there He took His stand, 

Close to his side. 

And yet how wondrous sweet 
Tlie look uith whlcli he hoard my passlonatr cry 



J 







4h 



80 3fY LAMBS. 



" Touch not my lamb ; for him, oh ! lei me die ! " 
" A little ^vhiIc," lie said, with smik and sigh, 
" Again to meet/' 

Hopeless I fell ; 
And when I rose, the light had burned so low, 
So faint, I could not sec my darling go : 
He had not bidden me farewell, but oh ! 

I felt farewell 

]\Iorc deeply, fiir, 
Tlian if my arms had compassed that slight frame : 
Though could I but have heard him call my name — 
" Dear mother !" — but in heaven 'twill be the same ; 

There burns my star ! 

He will not take 
Another lamb, I thought, for only one 
Of the dear fold is spared, to be my sun, 
My guide : my mourner when this life is (\oYit : 

My heart would break. 

Oh ! with what thrill 
I heard Hiin enter; but I did not know 
(For it was dark) that He had robbed me po. 
The idol of my soul — he could not go — 

O heart ! be still ! 

Came morning. Can 1 tell 
How this poor fii-ame its sorrowful tenant kept ? 




-j»-J^ "Ulj. 



MY LAMBS. 81 »— 1 



For wakiDg tears were niine ; I, sleeping, wept, 

And days, months, years, that weary vigil kept. 

Alas! "Farewell." 

How often it is said ! 
[ sit and think, and wonder too, sometime. 
How it will seem, when, in that happier clirae, 
ft never will ring out like funeral chime 

Over the dead. 

No tears ! no tears ! 
Will there a day come that I shall not weep ? 
For I bedew my pillow in my sleep. 
Yes, yes \ thank God ! no grief that clime shall 
keep. 

No weary }'ears. 

Ay ! it is well : 
Well with my lambs, and with their earthly giiido 
There, pleasant rivers wander they beside, 
Or strike sweet harps upon its silver tide — 

Ay ! it is well. 

Tlirough the dreary day, 
They often come from glorious light to mo ; 
I cannot feel their touch, their faces see, 
Y'o'; my soul whispers, they do come to mo 

Heaven is not far away. 



^ 




^ 



82 THE CALL. 



THE CALL 



TIIK niglit was dark ; beholil, ihc shado was 
deeper 
Jn the old garden of Gethsemanc, 
When that calm voice awoke the wea'*/ sleeper : 
" Could'st thou not watch one hour alone witL 
me ?" 

O thou ! so weary of thy self-denials, 
And so impatient of thy little cross, 

Is it so hard to bear thy daily trials, 
To count all eartlily things a gainful Ios8 ? 

What if thou always suffer tribulation, 
And if thy Christian warfare never cease 

The gaining of the quiet habitation 
Shall gather thee to everlasting peace. 

But here we all must suffer, walking lonely 
Tlie path that Jesus once Himself hatli gone : 

Watch thou in patience, through the dark hour 
only — 
Tills one dark hour — before the eternal dawn. 

The captive's oar may pause upon the galley, 
The soldier sleep beneath his plumed crest, 

And Peace may fold her wings o'er hill and valley ' 
But thou, O Christian ! must not take thy rest 



4+- 



-f 



f 



THE CALL 8C 



t 



V 



TLou must walk on, however man upbraid thee, 
With Ilira who trod the wine-press all alone; 

Thou wilt not find one human hand to aid thee, 
One humat soul to comprehend thine own. 

[leed not the images for ever thronging 
From out the foregone life thou llv'st no more 

Faint-hearted mariner ! still art thou longing 
For the dim line of the receding shore ? 

Wilt tliou find rest of soul in thy returning 
To that old path thou hast so vainly trod ? 

I last thou forgotten all thy weary j-earning 
To walk among the children of thy God : 

Faithful and steadfast in their consecration, 
Living by that high faith to thee so dim, 

Declaring before God their dedication, 
So far from thee because so near to Ilim ? 

Canst thou forget thy Christian superscription, 
" Behold, we count them happy which endur<^ " ? 

IMiat treasure Avouldst thou, in the land Egyptian, 
Repass the stormy water to secure V 

And wilt thou yield thy sure and glorious promise 
For the poor, fleeting joys earth can afford ? 

No hand can take away tlie treasure from us. 
That rests within the keeping of the Lord. 



i^ 



84 TUE CALL. 



LIl)-. 



Poor, ■wjiiidcrlng soul ! I knoAv that thou art seek- 
ing 

Some easier "vvay, as all have sought before, 
To silence the reproachful Inward speaking — 

Some landward path unto an island shore. 

The cross is heavy in thy human measure, 
The -way too narrow for thine inward pride ; 

Thou canst not lay thine intellectual treasure 
At the low footstool of the Crucified. 

Oh ! that my faithless soul, one great hour only, 
Would comprehend the Christian's perfect life 

Despised with Jesus, sorrowful and lonely, 
Y(^t cahnly looking upward in its strife ! 

For poverty and self-renunciation, 

The Father yielded back a thousand-fold ; 

In the calm stillness of regeneration, 
Cometh a joy we never knew of old. 

In meek obedience to the heavenly TeacLcr, 
Thy weary soul can find its only peace ; 

Seeking no aid from any human creature — 
Looking to (jod alone for his release. 

And He will come In His own time and power 
To set Ills earnest-hearted children free : 

Watch only through this dark and ]\ainful hour, 
And the bright inoniing yv\ will break for the© 

^ \ rft 



GOD'S ANVIL. 85 



q 



G D' S AN VIL. 

"P"J)AEN'S furnace-beat within me quivers, 
JL God's breath upon the fire doth blow, 
And all my heart in anguish shivers, 

And trembles at the fiery glow ; 
And yet I whisper, "As God will I" 
And in His hottest fire hold still. 

He comes, and lays my heart, all heated, 

On the bare anvil, minded so 
Into His own fair shape to beat it. 

With His great hammer, blow on blow ; 
And yet I whisper, "As God will !" 
And at His heaviest blows hold still. 

He takes my softened heart, and beats it 
The sparks fiy ofl' at every blow. 

He turns it o'er and o'er, and heats it, 
And lets it cool, and makes it glow ; 

And yet I whisper, "As God will ! " 

And in His mighty hand hold still. 

Why should I murmur ? for the sorrow 
Thus only longcr-hved would be ; 

Its end may come, and will, to-morrow, 
When God has done His work in mo 



P 



4f 



86 THE CROSS AND CRO WN. 



So I say trusting, "As God -will 1 " 
And, trusting to the end, hold still. 

He kindles, for my profit purely, 
Affliction's glowing, Cery brand ; 

And all His heaviest blows are surely 
Inflicted by a master-hand ; 

So I say, praying, "As God will ! " 

And hope in Him, and suffer still. 



THE CROSS AND CROWN. 

MUST Jesus bear the cross alone- 
And all the world go free ? 
No ; there's a cross for every one, 
And there's a cross for me. 

How happy are the saints above, 

Who once went sorrowing here , 
But now they taste unmingled lovo 

And joy without a tear. 

The consecrated cross I'll bear, 

Till death shall set me free ; 
And then go home, my crown to wear 

For there's a crown for me. 

^ ^ ^ 



^ 



EVEX ME. 8V 



Upon the crystal pavement, down 

At Jesus' pierced feet, 
Jojful I'll cast my golden crown, 

And llis dear name repeat ; 

And p.ilms shall wave, and harps shall ring; 

Beneath heaven's arches high ; 
The Lord that lives, the ransomed sing, 

That lives no more to die. 



EVEN ME. 

LORD ! I hear of showers of blessing 
Thou art scattering, full and free ; 
Showers the thirsty soul refreshing — 
Let some droppings fall on me. 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O gracious Father ! 

Lost and sinful though I be ; 
Thou mightst curse me, but the rather 

Let Thy mercy light on me. 

Even mo. 

Pass me not, O tender Saviour I 
Let me love and clinir to Thee ; 



4^ 

88 EVEN ME. 



^ 



Fain I'm longing for Thy favor ; 
When Thou callest, call for me, 

Even mo. 

Pass me not, O mighty Spirit ! 

Thou canst make the blind to see; 
Testify of Jesus' merit, 

Speak the word of peace to me, 

Even me. 

Flave I long in sin been sleeping, 
Long been slighting, grieving Thee ? 

Has the \vorld my heart been keeping 
Oh ! forgive and rescue me. 

Even me. 

Love of God ! so prnx and changeless ; 

Love of Christ ! so rich and free ; 
Grace of God ! so strong and boundless 

Magnify it all in me. 

Even me. 

Pass me not, almighty Spirit ! 

Draw this lifeless heart to Thee ; 
Impute to me the Saviour's merits ; 

Blessing others, oh I bless me, 

Even me. 



J 



-* ^ 



TKE PEACE OF GOD. 89 



MY SAVIOUK, CRUCIFIED, 

0;MY Saviour, crucified ! 
Near Thy cross may I abide \ 
There Id gaze, with steadfast eye. 
On Thy dying agony. 

Jesus, bruised and put to shame, 
Tells me all the Father's name ; 
God is love, I surely know, 
By my Saviour s depths of woo I 

In Ilis sinless soul's distress, 
I behold my guiltiness ; 
Oh ! how vile my low estate, 
Since my ransom was so great. 

Dwelling on Mount Calvary, 
Contrite shall my spirit be ; 
Rest and holiness shall find, 
Fashioned like my Saviour's mind. 



THE PEACE OF GOD. 

WE ask for peace, O Lord I 
Thy children ask Thy peace 
Not what the world calls rest, 
That toil and care should ceaso 



-JX 



^ ^ 

'JO Tiri; PEACE OF GOD. 

That through bright sunny hours, 

Cahn life should fleet a^vay, 
And tranquil night should fade 

In smiling day. 
It is not for such peace that we would pray. 

We ask for peace, O Lord ! 

Yet not to stand secure, 
Girt round with iron pride, 

Contented to endure ; 
Crushing the gentle strings 

That human hearts should know ; 
Untouched by others' joys, 

Or others' woe. 
Thou, dear Lord ! wilt never teach U3 so. 

We ask Thy peace, O Lord ! 

Through storm and fear and strife, 
To light and guide us on 

Through a long, struggling life ; 
While no success or gain 

Shall cheer the desperate fight, 
Or nerve what the world caUs 

Our wasted might ; 
Yet pressing through the darkness to the liglit 

It Is Thine own, O Lord I 
Who toil while others sleep ; 



-j- JT" 



PEACE. 91 



4^ 



Wliat other hands shall reap ; 
They lean on Thee, entranced 

In calm and perfect rest ; 
Give us that peace, O Lord ! 

Divine and blest, 
Thou kecpest ibr those hearts that lore Tlico 

[best. 

— ^ — 

PEA C E. 

LIFE'S mysteiy — deep, restless as the ocean — 
Hath surged and wailed for ages to and 
fro ; 
Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion, 

As in and out its hollow moanings flow. 
Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea. 
Let my soul calm itself, O God ! in Thee. 

Life's sorrows, with inexorable power. 
Sweep desolation o'er this mortal plain ; 

And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff 
Borne by the v/hirlwind from the ripened grain 

Oh ! when before that blast my hopes all flee, 

Let my soul calm itself, O Christ ! in Thee. 

Between the mysteries of death and life 
Tliou standcst, loving, guiding, not explaining; 

^ — — -^ 



-* — -^ 



92 PEACE. 



We ask, and thou art silent ; yet we gaze, 
And our cliarmcd hearts forget their drear com- 
plaining. 

Ng crushing fate, no stony destiny, 

Thou " Lamb that hath been slain !" we rest iu 
Thee. 

The many waves of thought, the mighty tides, 
The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands, 

From far-oti" worlds, from dim, eternal shores. 
Whose echo dashes o'er Hfe's wave- worn strands ; 

This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 

Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord ! in Thee. 

Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels, 
Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the crown 
of power ; 
And when the dark enigma presseth sore. 

Thy patient voice saith ; " AYatch with me one 
hour." 
As sinks the moaning river in the sea, 
In silent peace, so sinks my ooul in Thee. 



^ —4- 



■J 4j 



PRAYER FOR STREh^GTE. 93 



PRAYER FOR STRENGTH, 

FATHER ! before thy footstool kneeling, 
Once more my heart goes up to Thee ', 
For aid, for strength, to Thee appealing, 
Thou who alone canst succor me. 

Hear me ! for heart and flesh arc failing — 

My spirit yielding in the strife ; 
And anguish, wild as unavailing. 

Sweeps in a flood across my life. 

Help me to stem the tide of sorrow ; 

Help me to bear Thy chastening rod ; 
Give me endurance ; let me borrow 

Strength from thy promise, O my iod I 

Not mine the grief which words maj lighten ; 

Not mine the tears of common woe : 
The pang with which my heart-strings tighten, 

Only the All-seeing One may know. 

And I am weak ; my feeble spirit 

Shrinks from Hfe's task in wild dismay : 

Tet not that Thou that task wouldst spare it, 
My Father, do I dare to pray. 

Into my soul Thy might infusing, 

Strengthening my spirit by Thine own, 

^h— — ^ 



^ ^ 

94 PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 

Help me — all other aid refusing — • 
To cling to Thee, and Thee alone. 

And oh ! in my exceeding weakness, 
I^Iake Thy strength perfect: Thou art strong ! 

Aid me to do Thy -will with meekness, 
Thou, to whom all my poAvcrs belong. 

Saviour ! our human form once wearing. 

Help, by the memory of that day, 
When, painfully Thy dark cross bearing, 

E'en for a time Thy strength gave way. 

Beneath a lighter burden sinking, 

Jesus, I cast myself on Thee ; 
Forgive, forgive this useless shrinking 

From trials that I know must be. 

Oh ! let me feel that Thou art near me, 

Close to Thy side I shall not fear, 
flear me, O Strength of Israel ! hear mo ; 

Sustain and aid ! in mercy, hear I 



■^ 



J 



* ^ ^ 



ONWARD. 95 



o:v^ ir^iTJD. 



TRAVELER, faint not on the road, 
Droop not in tlie parching iiun ; 
Onward, onAvard with tliy load, 

Till the night be won. 
Swerve not, though thy bleeding feet 
Fain the narrow path would leave ; 
From the burden and the heat, 
Thou shalt rest at eve. 

Midst a world that round thee fades, 

Brightening stars and twilight life ; 
When a sacred calm pervades 

All that now is strife ; 
Ellch the joy to be revealed 

In that hour from labor free, 
Bright the splendors that shall yield 

Happiness to thee. 

Master of a holy charm. 

Yet be patient on thy way ; 
Use the spell, and check the harm 

That would lead astray. 
From the petty cares that teem, 

Turn thee, with prophetic eyo, 
To the glory of that dream 

Which shall never die 

^ ^ 



_l±l ' ' ^ 

OG GRTEF WAS SKXT THEE FOR THY GOOD. 



By the mystery of thy trust ; 

By the grandeur of that Iiour 
"When mortality and dust 

Clothed eternal power ; 
By the purple robe of shame, 

The mockery, and the insulting red 
By the anguish that o'crcame 

The incarnate God : 

Faint not ! fail not ! be thou strong. 

Cast a-way distrust and fear ; 
Though the weary day seems long, 

Yet the night is near. 
Friends and kindred wait beyond — 

They who passed the trial pure : 
Traveler, by that holy bond, 

Shrink not to endure. 



GRTEF WAS SEXT THEE FOR THY GOOD 

SOME there are who seem exempted 
From the doom incun-ed by all : 
Are they not more sorely tempted? 

Are they not the fu-st to fall ? 
As a mother s firm denial 

Checks her infant's wayward mood, 
Wisdom lurks in every trial — 
Grief wa^ sent thee f -jr thy good. 



^ 



^ ■ — ^ 

SCE^^S " ON- JORDAN'S STEAND." 97 

In the scenes of former pleasure, 

Present anguish hast thou felt ; 
O'er thv fond heart's dearest treasure-, 

As a mourner, hast thcu knelt : 
In thy hour of deep affliction, 

Let no impious thoughts intrude : 
Meekly bow, with this conviction — 

Grief was sent thee for thy good. 



SCBiVES " O.V JORDAN'S STRAND:' 

'^ I"1HERE came a little child, with sunny hair, 
JL All fearless to the brink of Death's dark 

river. 
And with a sweet confiding in the care 

Of Him who is of life the Joy and Giver ; 
And, as upon the waves she left our sight. 
Wo heard her say: "My Saviour makes them 
briixht." 



Next came a youth, with bearing most serene, 
Nor turned a single backward look of sadness 

But, as he left each gay and flowery scene, 
Smiling declared: "My soul is thrilled with 

gladuess ! j 

^^ rt+ 



H+J 



^ 



98 SCENES "O^V JORDAN'S STRAND: 



WTiat earth deems bright, for ever I resign 
Joyful but this to know, that Christ is mino." 

An aged mourner, trembhng. tottered by, 
And paused a moment by the SAvelHng river 

Tlien glided on beneath the shadowy sky, 

Singing : " Christ Jesus is my strength for evei 

Upon His arm my feeble soul I lean. 

My glance meets His, without a cloud between." 

And scarce her last triumphant note had died, 
Ere hastened on a man of wealth and Icarnir.g 

Who cast at once his bright renown aside, 
These only words unto his friends returning 

" Christ for my Wisdom thankfully I own, 

And as 'a little child' I seek His throne." 



Then saw I this : that, whether guileless child. 
Or youth, or age, or genius, won salvation, 

l^ach self-renouncing came ; on each God smiled 
Each found the love of Christ rich compensation 

For loss of friends, earth's pleasures, and renown • 

Each entered heaven, and " by His side sat down." 



^ 



r-+ 



THERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 99 




IHERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 

BEYOND the stars that shine in golden glory, 
Beyond the calm sweet moon, 
Up tlie bright ladder saints have trod before thee, 

Soul ! thou shalt venture soon. 
Secure with Him who sees thy heart-sick yearning, 

Safe in His arms of love, 
Tliou shalt exchange the midnight for the morniur^j 
And thy fair home above. 

Oh I it is sweet to watch the world's night wearing 

The Sabbath morn come on, 
And sweet it were the vineyard labor sharing — 

Sweeter the labor done. 
All finished ! all the conflict and the sorrow , 

Earth's dream of anguish o'er ; 
i.V.>alliless there dawns for thee anightless morrow 

On Eden's blissfid shore. 

Patience ! then, patience ! soon the pang of dying 

Shall all forgotten be, 
And tbou, through rolling spheres rejoicing, lining 

Beyond the wnvcless sea. 



^ 



#- ^ 4t 

100 THERE IS LIGHT BET027B. 

Slialt know hereafter where thy Lord doth lead 
thee, 
His darkest dealings trace 
And by those fountains where His love will feed 
thee, 
Beliolu Him face to face. 



Then bow thine head, and God shall give theo 
meekness, 

Bravely to do His will ; 
So shall arise His glory in thy weakness — 

O struggling soul ! be still. 
Dark clouds are His pavilion shining o'er thee. 

Thine heart must recognize 
The veiled Shechinah moving on befor'e thee, 

Too bright to meet thine eyes. 

Behold the wheel that straightly moves, and fleetly 

Performs the Sovereign Word ; 
Tliou know'st His suffering love ! then suffering 
meekly, 

Follow thy loving Lord ! 
Watch on the tower, and listen by the gateway, 

Nor weep to wait alone ; 
Take thoii thy spices, and some angel straightway 

Shall roll :iwnv the stx^nc. 



h 



4 



» TRY WILL BE DOXE.-" 

llien sLalt thou tell thy living Lord Lath risen, 

And risen but to save ; 
Tell of the might that breaks the Captive's prisou, 

And life beyond the grave ! 
Tell how He met thee, all His radiance shrouded ; 

How in thy sorrow came 
Plis pitying voice breathing, when faith was 
clouded, 

Thine own famdiar name- 
So at the grave's dark portal thou may's t linger, 

And hymn some happy strain ; 
The passing world may mock the feeble singer — 

Heed not, but sing again. 
Thus wait, thus watch, till He the last link sevar, 

And changeless rest be won ; 
Then in His glory thou shalt bask for ever, 

Fear not the clouds — press on ! 




^'TIIY WILL BE DONEP' 

FOUK little words, no more — 
Easy to say ; 
But thoughts that went before, 
Can words convev ? 



^ 



^ 



!._ J^ LX.|. 



102 " TET WILL BE DONE: 




TLe struggle, only known 

To one proud soul, 
And Him whose eye alone 

Has marked the whole, 

Before that stubborn will 

At length was broke, 
And a low " Peace, be still !" 

One soil Voice spoke ; 

The pang, when that sad heart 

Its dreams resigned, 
And strength was found, to par* 

Those bonds long twined, 

To yield that treasure up, 

So fondly clasped. 
To drain that bitter cup, 

So sadly grasped I 



" Thy will be done !" 
Enough, the storm is past. 
The field is won. 

Now for the peaceful breast, 

The quiet sleep ; 
For soul and spirit rest, 

Tranrjuil and deep. 



^ 



4 



THEY SHA LL BE Ml^E ! \ 03 



Rest, whose full bliss and power 

They only know, 
ViTho knew the bitter hour 

Of restless woe. 

The rebel will subdued— 
The fond heart free — 
'* Thy will be done V'—all good 
That comes from Thee. 

All weary thought and care, 

Lord, we resign ; 
Ours is to do, to bear, 

To choose is thine. 

Four little words, no more- 
Easy to say ; 

But what was felt before, 
Can words convey ? 





THEY SHALL BE MINK'. 

'^ rpiIEY shall be mine T Oh I lay thera 
-L down to slumber, 

Calm in the strong assurance that lie gives ; 
Fie calls them by their names, He knows their 
number, 
And tluiy sh-jll live as surely as He lives. 



-rfj 1%- 

104 TIIEY SHALL BE MIKE I 

" TTie/ shall be mine !" upraised from eartbl} 
pillows, 
Gathered from desert sand, from mountains 
cold — 
Called from the graves beneath old ocean's billows, 
Called from each distant land, each scattered 
fold. 

WcU might the soul, that wondrous spark of 
being. 

Lit by His breath who claims it for His own, 
Shine in the circle which His love foreseeing, 

Destined to glitter brightest by His throne. 

But shall the dust from earthly dust first taken 
And now long mingled with its native earth, 

To life, to beauty, once again awaken, 
Thrill with the rapture of a second birth ? 

" 'Tliey shall be mine !" they, as on earth we knc\T 
them — 

Tlie lips we kissed, the hands we loved to press — 
\)nly a fuller life be circling through them, 

Unfading youth, unchanging holiness. 

" They shall be mine !" children of sin and soitow 
Giv'st Thou, O Lord ! heaven's almost verge to 
tliera ? 



-^ 



j:+ 



■^ 



LB A VE ME NOT NO W. 105 



No from each rlilcd grave Tliy crown sliaU 
borrow 
An added liglit— a prized and costly gem. 

They shall be mine !" Thought fails and feeling 

falters, 
Striving to sound and fathom love divine ; 
Ail that Ave know— no time Thy promise alters— 
All that we trust, our loved ones shall be Thine. 



LEAVE ME NOT NOW, 

LEAVE me not now, while still the shade is 
creeping 
O'er the sad heart that longs to rest in Thee , 
Hear my complaint, and while my soul is weeping, 
Breathe Thou the holy dew of sympathy. 

Leave me not now, Thou Saviour of compassion. 
While yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 

Lord, by Thine anguish and TJiy wond'rous passion, 
Do I entreat Thee now to linger here. 

Jesus, Thou soul of love, Thou heart of feeling, 
Let me repose the weary night away 

Safe on Thy bosom, all my woes reveallno-, 
Secure from danger, till the dawn of day. 



1 



-^ — ^ 

'-^ ] 00 FA J Til S REPOSE. 

Then leave mc not, O Comforter and Father, 
Parent of love ! I live but in Thy sight • 

Trood Shepherd, to Thy fold the wandVcr gather. 
There to adore Thee, morning, noon, and night 



FAITH'S REFOSE. 

FATHER, beneath Tliy sheltering Wmg 
In sweet security Ave rest, 
And fear no evil earth can bring, 
In life, in death, supremely blest. 

For life is good, whose tidal How 
The motions of Thy will obeys ; 

And death is good, that makes us know 
The Love Divine that all things sways. 

And good it is to bear the cross, 
And so Thy perfect peace to win : 

And naught is ill, nor brings us loss. 
Nor works us harm, save only sin. 

Redeemed from this, we ask no more, 
But trust the love that saves to guide — 

Tlie grace that yields so rich a store, 
Will £rrant iis all we need beside. 



-^ 



I- 



l 



"TI1|- 



TUi: DELECTABLE MOUNTAmS. 107 



THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 

I SEE them far away, 
In their calm beauty, on the evening skies, 
Across the gohlen west their summits rise, 

Bright with the radiance of departing day. 
And often, ere the sunset light was gone, 
Gazing and longing, I have hastened on, 
As with new strength, all weariness and pain 
Forgotten in the hope those blissful heights to gain. 

Heaven lies not far beyond, 
But these are hills of earth, our changeful air 
Circles around them, and the dwellers tliero 

Still own mortality's mysterious bond. 
The ceaseless contact, the continued strife, 
Of sin and grace, which can but close with life, 
Is not yet ended, and the Jordan's roar 
Still sounds between their path and the Celestial 
shore. 

But there, the jfilgrims say, 
On these calm heights, the tumult and the noiso 
Of all our busy cares and restless joj's 

Has almost in the distance died away ; 
All the past journey " a right way " appears, 
Thoughts of the future %vakc no faitliless fears, 



i^ 



-H 



4^ 



108 TEE DELECTABLE 3fOUNTAiyS. 



^ 



And tlirough the clouds, to their rejoicing ej'es, 
The city's golden streets and pearly gates arise. 

Courage, poor fainting heart ! 
These happy ones in the far distance seen 
Were sinful wanderers once, as thou hast been, 

Weary and sorrowful, as now thou art. 
Linger no longer on the lonely plain. 
Press boldly ouAvard, and thou too shalt gain 
Their vantage-ground, and then, with vigor new, 
All thy remaining race and pilgrimage pursue. 

Ah ! far too faint, too poor 
Arc all our views and aims — we only stand 
Within the borders of the promised land, 

Its precious things we seek not to secure ; 
And thus our hands hang down, and oft unstrung 
Our harps are left the willow-trees among , 
Lord, lead us forward, upward, till we know 
How much of heavenly bliss may be enjoyed be- 
low. 



" And then, said they, wo will, !f tho day be clear, show you 

the Delectable Blountains So he looked, and behold, at a 

great distance he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, 
.... very delectable to behold, .... and it is as commcn, said 
Uiey, as tliis hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. An 3 when thou 
comcst there, from thence thou ciayest see to tlie gate of the 
Celestial City."— ^««va7i. 

^ —if 



-f 



4h 



TEE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 109 



THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 

AMID the shadows and the fears 
That overcloud this home of tears, 
Amid my poverty and sin, 
The tempest and the war within, 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God I 

Drifting across a sunless sea, 
Cold, heavy mist, encurtaining mc ; 
Toihng along life's broken road, 
With snares around, and foes abroad, 

I cast my soul on Thee, 

"Mighty to save e'en me, 

Jesus, Thou Son of God 

Mine is a day of fear and strife, 
A needy soul, a needy life, 
A needy world, a needy age ; 
¥'et, in my perilous pilgrimage, 

I cast my soul on Thee, 

lyiighty to save e'en me, 

Jesus, Thou Son of God I 

^ ^ -^ 



1 1 TJIE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 



To Thee I come — all ! only Thou 
Canst wipe the sweat from off this brow 
Thou, only Thou, canst make me whole, 
A nd soothe the fever of my soul ; 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God I 

On Thee I rest — Thy love and grace 
Are my sole rock and resting-place ; 
In Thee my thirst and hunger sore, 
Lord, let me quench for evermore. 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God I 

'Tis earth, not heaven; 'tis night, not nocn 

The sorrowless is coming soon ; 

But, till the morn of love appears. 

Which ends the travail and the tears, 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
IMighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 



■ »ia ■■ I """I 





QOD'S ^7AYS. 111 



GOD'S WAYS, 

HO \V few who from their youthful day 
Look on to what their life may be, 
Painting the visions of tlie way 

In colors soft, and bright, and free ; 
How few who to such paths have brought 
The hopes and dreams of early thought 1 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 

The eager hearts, the souls of fire 
Who pant to toil for God and man, 

And view with eyes of keen desire 
The upland way of toil and pain ; 

Almost with scorn they think of rest. 

Of holy calm, of tranquil breast ; 

But God, through ways they have not kncwr, 
Will lead His own. 

A lowlier task on them is laid. 

With love to make the labor light , 

And then their beauty they must shed, 
On quiet homes and lost to sight. 

Changed are their visions high and fair, 

Yet calm and still they lab.or there ; 

For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will load llis own. 



f 



^.Zi 



112 GOD-S WAYS. 



The gentle heart that thinks -with pain 
It scarce can lowlie??t tasks fulfil, 

And if it dared its life to scan 
^\''ould ask but pathAvay low and still ; 

Often such lowly heart is brought 

To act with power beyond its thought ; 

For God, through ways they have not known. 
Will lead liis own. 

And they the bright, who long to prove 

In joyous path, in cloudless lot, 
How fresh from earth their grateful love 

Can spring without a stain or spot ; 
Often such youthful heart is given 
The path of grief to walk to heaven ; 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 

What matter what the path shall be ? 

The end is clear and bright to view : 
lie knows that we a strength shall see 

Whate'er the day shall bring to do : 
\Yc see the end, the house of God, 
But not the path to that abode ; 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
WUJ lead His own. 



-^ 



4^ 



DISTRA CTIOXS IX PR A TER. 113 



DISTRACTIONS IX PRAYER. 

I CANNOT pray; yet Lord, thou kuow'st 
The pain it is to me, 
To have my vainly struggling thoughts 
Thus torn away from Thee. 

Prayer -was not meant for luxury 

Of selfish pastime sweet ; 
It is the prostrate creature's place 

At his Creator's feet- 
Had I, dear Lord, no pleasure found 

But in the thoughts of Thee, 
Prayer would have come unsought, and been 

A truer Hberty. 

Yet Thou art ofl most present, Lord, 

In weak distracted prayer ; 
A sinner out of heart with self, 

Most often finds Thee there. 

And prayer that humbles sets the soul 

From all illusions free, 
And teaches it how utterly, 

Dear Lord, it hangs on Thee. 

^:i — — 4- 



4^ ^ "^ 

'"^ iH J^Y GUEST. 

The soul tlia-t on self-sacrifice 

Is dutifully bent, 
Will bless the chastening hand that makes 

Its prayer its punishment. 

Ah, Jesus ! why should I complain ? 

And why fear aught but sin ? 
Distractions are but outward things 5 

Thy peace dAvclls far within ! 

These surface troubles come and go 

Like rufllings of the sea ; 
The deeper depth is out of reach 

To all, my God, but Thee ! 



MY GUEST. , 

I HAVE a wonderful Guest, 
^Vho speeds my feet, who moves my hands 
Wlio strengthens, comforts, guides, comraaads, 
Whose presence gives me rest. 

lie dwells within my soul ; 

He swept away the filth and gloom, 
[Ic garnished fair the empty room. 

And now pervades the whole. 

^ s^ 



^ ^ 

MY GUEST. 115 

For aye, by day and night, 
He keeps the portal — suffers naught 
Defile the temple He has bought, 

And filled Avith joy and light. 

Once 'twas a cavern dim ; 
The home of evil thoughts, desires, 
Enkindled by infernal fires, 

Without one thought of Him. 

Regenerated by His grace, 
Still 'tis a meagre inn, at best, 
A\Tierein the King's to make His rest, 

And show His glorious face. 

Yet, Saviour, ne'er depart 
From this poor earthly cottage home, 
Until the Father bid me come, 

^Vhlsp'ring within my heart : 

" I shake these cottage walls ; 
Fear not ! at My command they bo w : 
My heavenly mansions open now, 

\s this poor dwelling falls." 

Then ray dear wondrous Guest 
Shall bear me on His own right hand 
Unto that fair and Promised Land, 

Where T in Illm slmll vest 



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4^—^ 4i 



^ 



116 ooMiwa. 



COMING. 

At cvcu, ot at miJnight, or at the cock-trowtng, or ia ttfi 
morning." 

k i -p'p nijiy 130 Jn the evening, 

I AVlien the work of the day Is done, 
And you have time to sit in the tAvilight 

And watch the sinking sun, 
While the long bright day dies slowly 

Over the sea, 
And the hour grows quiet and holy 

With thoughts of me ; 
While you hear the village children 

Passing along the street, 
Among those thronging footsteps 

May come the sound of my fo.ct 
Therefore I tell you : Watch 

By the light of the evening star, 
"Wlien the room is growing dusky 

As the clouds afar ; 
Let the door be on the latch 

In your home, 
For it may be through the gloaming 

I will come. 

"It Diay be when the midnight 
Is heavy upon the land. 



COMING. 117 



^ 



And the black waves lying dumbly 

Along the sand ; 
When the moonless night draws close, 
And the lights arc out in the house i 
When the fires burn low and red, 
And the watch is ticking loudly 

Beside the bod : 
Though you sleep, tired out, on your couch, 
Still your heart must wake and watch 

In the dark room, 
For it may be that at midnight 

I will come. 

" It may be at the cock-crow, 
When the night is dying slowly 

In the sky, 
And the sea looks calm and holy. 

Waiting for the dawn 

Of the golden sun 

Which draweth nigh ; 
AVhen the mists are on the valleys, shading 

The rivers chill. 
And ray morning-star is fading, fading 

Over the hill : 
Behold I say unto you : Watch ; 
Let the door be on the latch 

In your home ; 
In the chill before the dawning, 

^ ^ 



4^ 



"i:h- 



lis GOMINQ. 



I may cojne. 

'♦ It may be in the moruiiig, 

When tne sun is bright and strong 
And the dew is glittering sharply 

Over the little lawn ; 
When the waves are laughing loudlv 

Along the shore, 
And the little birds are singing sweetly 

About the door ; 
With the long day's work betore you, 

You rise up with the sun, 
And the neighbors come in to talk a little 

Of all that must be done, 
But remember that / may be the next 

To come In at the door. 
To call you from all your busy -work 

For evermore : 
As you work your heart must watch 
For the door is on the latch 

In your room. 
And it may be in tlie morning 

I will come.' 

So He passed down my cottage garden. 
By the path that leads to the sea 



4 4t 



coMma. 119 



Till He came to the turn of the little road 
AVhefe the birch and laburnum tree 

Lean over and arch the way ; 

There I saw him a moment stay, 
And turn once more to me, 
As I wept at the cottage door, - 

And lift up His hands in blessing — 
Then I saw His face no more. 



And I stood still in the doorway, 

Leaning against the wall, 
Not heeding the fair white roses, 

Tliough I crushed them and let them (all 
Only loolving down the pathway , 

And looking toward the sea. 
And wondering, and wondering 

"When He would come back for mc ; 
Till I was aware of an Angel 

Who was going SAviftly by, 
Willi the gladness of one who goeth 

In the llrrht of God Most Hicrh. 



He passed the end of the cottage 
Toward the garden gate — 
(I suppose he was come down 
At the setting of the sun 



^ 



^J 



% 



120 coMjyo. 



To couiiurt some one in the village 

^VTiose dwelling was desolate) — 
And he paused before the door 

Beside my place, 
And the likeness of a smile 

Was on his face : 
Weep not," he said, " for unto you is given 

To watch for the coming of His feet 
AVho is the glory of our blessed heaven ; 

The work and watching will be ^•C17 
sweet, 

Even in an earthly home ; 
And in such an hour as you think not 

lie will come." 



So I am watching quietly 

Every day. 
Whenever the sun shines brightly, 

I rise and say : 
Surely it is the shining of Ills face !" 

And look unto the gates of His high place 

Beyond the sea ; 
For I know He is coming shortly 

To summon me. 
And when a shadow falls across the windov? 

Of my room, 
V\'herc I am working my appointed task. 




rp" 



-4^ 



A QUIET MIXD. 121 



^ 



I Ui\ my head to watch the door aud aiik 

K He is come ; 
And tlie Angel answers sweetly 

In my home : 
Only a few more shadows, 

And He will come." 



A QUIET MIND. 

I HAVE a treasure which I pri2e : 
Its like I cannot find : 
There's nothing like it on the earth ; 
'Tis this — a quiet mind. 

But 'tis not that I'm stupefied, 
Or senseless, dull, or blind ; 

'Tis God's own peace within my heait, 
Which forms my quiet mind. 

I found this treasure at the cross : 

And there, to every kind 
Of weary, heavy-laden souls, 

Christ gives a quiet mind. 

My Saviour's death and risen life, 

To give it were designed ; 
His love, the never-failing spring 

C)f this, my quiet mind. 



n+ 



^ 



4 ^ 44- 

]22 ^ QUIET MIIJD. 

The love of God within my breast, 

My heart to Him doth bind ; 
This is the peace of heaven on earth — 

This is my quiet mind. 

I've many a cross to take u}) now, 

And many left behind ; 
But present troubles move me r.ot. 

Nor shake my quiet mind. 

And what may be to-morrow's cross, 

I never seek to find ; 
My Saviour says : " Leave that to me. 

And keep a quiet mind." 

And well I know the Lord hath said, 

To make my heart resigned, 
That mercy still shall follow those 

"NV ho have this quiet mind. 

J meet with pride of wit and wealth, 

And scorn, and looks unkind ; 
It matters not — I envy none, 

Wliile I've a quiet mind. 

I'm waiting now to see my Lord, 

So patient and so kind ; 
I want to thank Ilim face to face, 

For this my quiet mind. 







^ 



ALL IS LIGHT. 123 



ALL IS LIGHT. 

W^llAT though storm-clouds gather round 
me, 
Ilovenng darkly o'er my way ? 
While I see the cross of Calvary 
Beaming with celestial ray, 
All is light, all is light ! 

Wlmt though mortal powers may falter ? 

Earthly plans and prospects fail ? 
With a heaven-born hope which entcrctb 

E'en to that within the veil, 
All is light, all is light ! 

What though all my future pathway 

Be from mortal sight concealed ? 
With the love of Jesus glowing, 

As it lies to faith revealed. 
All is light, all is light ! 

hi'en though death's deep vale before mo 
Seem o'ei'spread with thickest gloom, 

NMiile I see a heavenly radiance 
Bursting from beyond the tomb, 
All is hght, all is light! 



* 



i 



^ ^ 



1 24 LONGINGS, 



L K G IN O S. 



\ 1 r'lIEIs shall 1 be at rest? My trembliug 
VV heart 

Grows weary of Its burden, sickening still 
With hopes deferred. Oh I that it were Thy 
will 
To loose my bonds, and take nie Avhere Thou art 1 

When shall I be at rest ? My eyes grow dim 
With straining through the gloom ; I scarce can 

see 
The wa}inarks that my Saviour Icll for me. 

Would it were morn, and I were safe with Him 1 

^^'hen shall I be at rest ? Hand over hand 
I grasp, and climb an ever steeper liill, 
A rougher path. Oh ! that it were Thy will 

liy tired feet might tread the Promised Land ! 

C^h ! that I were at rest! A thousand fears 
Come thronging o'er me, lest I fall at last. 
Would I were safe, all toil and danger past, 

^Vnd Thine own hands might wipe awav my teais, 

^ — ^ 



^ 




LON6INOS. 125 



Oh I that 1 were at rest, like some I love, 
Whose last fond looks drew half my life away, 
Seeming to plead that either they might stay 

Witli me on earth, or I with them above. 

But why these murnmrs? Thou didst never 
shrink 
From any toil or weariness for me — 
Not even from that last deep agony. 

Shall I bencatli my little trials sink ? 

No, Lord ; for when I am indeed at rest, 
One taste of that deep bliss will quite cffaco 
The sternest memories of my earthly race, 

Save but to swell the sense of being blest. 

Then lay on me whatever cross I need 

To bring me there. I know Thou canst not bo 
Unkind, unfaithful, or untrue to me 1 

Shall I not toil for Thee, when Thou for me didst 
bleed? 



^ ^ 



^ U-K 



126 BRIDGES. 



B RID G.E S. 

I HAVE a bridge within my heart, 
Known as the Bridge of Sighs ; 
It stretches from life's sunny part, 
To where its darkness lies. 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 

To watch life's tide beloAv, 
Sad thoughts come from the shadowy land 

And darken all its flow. 

Then, as it winds its way along 

To sorrow's bitter sea, 
Oh ! mournful is the spirit-song 

That upwaid floats to me. 

A song which breathes of blessings dead, 
Of friends and friendships flown ; 

And pleasures gone ! — their distant tread, 
Now to an echo grown. 

And hearing thus, beleaguering fears 

Soon shut the present out, 
Willie joy but in the past appears, 

And in the future doubt. 

Oh I often then will deeper grow, 
The night that round me lies 5 

I wish that life had run its flow, 
Or lU'ver foTin;] its )-!?p ' 



J 



tf 



BRIDGES. 12 '2 



1 have a bridge within my heart, 
Known as the Bridge of Faith ', 

It spans, by a mysterious art, 
The streams of life and death. 

And when upon this bridge I stand. 

To watch the tide below. 
Sweet thoughts come from the sunny land. 

And brighten all its flow. 

Then, as it winds Its w^ay along 

Down to a distant sea. 
Oh ! pleasant Is the spirit-song 

That upward floats to me. 

A song of blessings never sere, 

Of love " beyond compare," 
Of pleasures flowed from troublings here, 

To rise serenely there. 

And, hearing thus, a peace divine 

Soon shuts each sorrow out ; 
And all Is hopeful and benign, 

Where all was fear and doubt. 

Oh ! often then will brighter groTV 
The light that round me lies , 

I see from hfe's beclouded flow 
A crystal stream arise. 



4" 4t 

128 ''FATHER, TAKE MY HAIW?' 



''FATHER, TAKE MY HAND:' 

rT"lHE -way is dark, my Father ! Cloud on cloud 
-JL Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud 
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand 
Like one bewildered ! Father, take my hand, 

And through the gloom 

Lead safely home 
Thy child ! 

The da,y goes fast, my Father ! and the night 
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight 
Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, 
Encompass me. O Father ! take my hand, 

And from the night 

Lead up to light 
Thy child! 

Tlie way is long, my Father ! and my soul 
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal : 
While yet I journey through this weary land, 
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my baud ; 

Quickly and straight 

Ijoad to heaven's gate 
Thv child ! 



4j- 



''FATHER, TAKE MY HASD:' 129 



The path is rough, my Father I Many a thorn 
Has pierced me ; and my wesiry feet, all torn 
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet thy command 
Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand ; 

Then, safe and blest, 

Lead up to rest 
Thy chUd ! 

The throng is great, my Father ! Many a doubt 
And fear and danger compass me about ; 
And foes oppress me sore. I cannot stand 
Or go alone. O Father! take my hand, 

And through the throng 

Lead safe along 
• Thy child ! 

The cross is heavy, Father ! I have barno 
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn 
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land 
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand ; 

And, reaching down 

Lead to the crown 
Thy child ! 



4i ^ nft 



+T'^ 



% 



130 THE G HA CIO US AlfSWES. 



THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 

The way is dark, my child! hut leads to lights 
I would not always have thee ivalk hy sight. 
My dealings now thou canst not understand. 
1 7neant it so ; but I will take thy hand. 

And through the gloom 

Lead safely home 
My child! 

The day goes fast, my child ! But is the nigJd 
Darker to me than day ? In me is light ! , 

Kee}) close to me, and every spectral hand 
Of fears shall vanisJi. I will take thy hand. 

And through the nigld 

Lead up to light 
My child! 

The way is long, my child ! But it shall he 
A"o'! (.vie step longer than is hest for thee , 
And thou shalt know, at last, when thou shall stand 
Scfe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, 

A nd quick and straight 

Lead to heaven^ s gate 
My diUd I 

^ ^ _nf^ 



-rfj ^ 

'""^ THE GRACIOUS AXSWEIi. 131 '~' 

77/c path is roiighy my child ! But oh ! hoit tioer,[ 
Will be the rest^ for lueary pilgrims meet, 
When thou shall reach the borders of that land 
To ivhlch I lead thee, as I take thy hand , 

And safe and blest 

With me shall rest 
My child! 

The throng is great, my child ! But at thy side 
Thy Father ivalks : then be not terrified ' 
For I am with thee ; will thy foes command 
To let thee freely pass ; will take thy hand, 

And through the throng 

Lead safe along 
My child! 

The cross is heavy, child! Yet there was One 
Who bore a heavier for thee : my Son, 
My Well-beloved. For Him bear thine; and stand 
With lllni at last ; and, from thy Fathers hand. 

Thy cross laid doivn, 

Receive a crown, 
My child! 



IL N. C 



OroouiicJi, Pcr^a. 



'f' 



XI 




4^ 



132 ASLEEP Oy GUARD/ 



ASLEEP ON GUARD! 

'*' /~\ SHAME 1" -weVc; somctiraes fain to say 
\_J " On Peter sleeping, while lils dear Lord 
lay 
Awake with anguish, In the garden's shade, 
Waiting Ills hour to be betrayed." 

We say, or think, If we had gone 
Thither — Instead of Peter, James, and John — 
And Christ had left us on the outpost dim. 
As sentinels, to watch with Him ; 

We would have sooner died, than sleep 

The little time we vigil had to keep ; 

Then wake, to feel His torturing question's power 

" Could ye not watch with me one hour ?" 

One hour in sad Gethsemanc ! 

And such an hour as that to Him must be ! 

All night our tireless eyes had pierced the shade, 

\\'here He in grief's great passion prayed. 

Whai do we now, to make our word 
Seem no vain boast of love to Christ our Lord ? 
We cannot take the chidden sleeper's place, 
And shun, br proof, His deep drj^graco ! 



^ ^ 

ASLEEP oy GUARD 1 183 

No more, the olive's sliade beneath, 
The human Christ foretas';es tftc cup of deatk. 
And leaves His servants in the outer gloom, 
To watch till He again shall come ! 

Yet arc there midnights dark and dread, 
When Jesus still by traitors is betrayed ; 
Our bosom-sin's the lurking foe at hand, 
And "AVatch with me" is Christ's command. 

One little hour of sleepless care. 
And sin could wrest no victory from us there 5 
But, with the fame of our loved Lord to keep, 
Like those we scorn, we fall asleep. 

Oh ! if our risen Lord must chide 
Our souls, for slumbering His death-cross beside, 
What face have we to boast our feeble sense 
Had shamed poor Peter's vigilance ! 

On Peter, James, and John, no more 
The wrong reproach of hasty pride we pour \ 
But feel within the question's torturing power, 
" Could yc not watch with me one hour?" 



if^ 






13d THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 



THE UOUR OF PRAYER. 

'\ /T~^ ^°^' ^^ ^^^' ^^*^"^ ^^ sweet, 

IVi From blush of morn to evenin«» star. 
As that which calls me to Thy fao-t — 
The hour of prayer ! 

Blest Is that tranquil hour of morn, 

And blest that hour of solemn eve, 
^Vhen, on the wings of faith up-borne, 

The world I leave ! 

For then a day-spring shines on mo, 
Brighter than morn's ethereal glow ) 

And richer dews descend from Thee 
Than earth can know. 

Then is my strength by Tliee renewed ; 

Then do I feel my sins forgiven ; 
Then dost Thou cheer my solitude 

With joys of heaven. 

No words can tell what sweet rehcf 

There for my every want I find ; 
What strength for warfare, bahn for grief, 

What peace of mind. 

^ ^ 



_1 



THY WILL BE DONE. 136 



Hushed is each doubt, gone every feav ', 
My spirit seems in heaven to stay ; 

And e'en the penitential tear 
Is wiped away. 

Lord ! till I reach that bhssful shore, 
No privilege so dear shall be, 

As thus my inmost soul to pour 
In prayer to Thee. 



THY WILL BE DONE. 

WE sec not, know not. All our way 
Is night. With Thee alone is day 
From out the torrent's troubled drift. 
Above the storm — our prayers we lift — 
Thy will be done ! 

The flesh may fail, the heart may faint, 
But who are we, to make complaint, 
Or dare to plead, in times like these, 
The weakness of our love of case ? 
Thy will be done ! 

We take with solemn thankfulness 
Our burden up, nor ask it less ; 
And count it joy that even wo 



^ 



^ % 

lUG TUY WILL BIS DO^^r, 

May suffer, serve, or wait for Thee, 
AVhose win be done I 

Though dim, as yet, in tint and line, 
AVe trace Thy picture's wise design, 
And thank Thee that our age supplies 
Its dark relief of sacrifice — 
Thy will be done ! 

And if, in our unworthiness, 
Thy sacrificial wine we press ; 
If, from Thy ordeal's heated bars, 
Our feet are seamed with crimson scars, 
Thy will be done ! 

If, for the age to come, this hoiu* 
Of trial hath vicarious power ; 
And, blest by Thee, our present pain 
Be Liberty's eternal gain. 
Thy will be done ! 

Strike ! Thou the Master, we Thy key?. 
The anthem of the destinies ! 
The minor of Thy loftier strain, 
Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain— 
Thy will be done ! 



"q:L_ rp" 



ir- -^ 



HYMN OF TRUST. 137 



IIYMX OF TRUST, 



OLOVE Divine 1 that stooped to sliarc 
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest teai 
0]i Thee Ave cast each earth-born care ; 
We smile at pain while Thou art near 1 



Though long the weary way we tread, 
And sorrows crown each hngering year, 

No path we shun, no darkness dread, 

Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near \ 



When drooping pleasure turns to grief. 
And trembling faith is changed to fear, 

The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf. 
Shall softly tell us. Thou art near I 



On Tliee we fling our burdening woe, 
Love Divine I for ever dear ; 

Content to suffer, while we know, 
Living and dying. Thou art near I 



i 



138 Tim BURIAL OF M0SE8. 



L 



THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 

BY Ncbo's lonely mountain, 
On this side Jordan's wave, 
In a vaJe in the land of Moab, 

There lies a lonely grave ; 
And no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e'er, 
For the " Sons of God " upturned the sod. 
And bid the dead man there. 



rhat -was the grandest funeral 

That ever passed on earth ; 
But no man heard the trampling, 

Or saw the train go forth. 
Noiselessly as the day-light 

Comes when the night is done, 
And the crimson streak on ocean's; check 

Grows into the creat sun — 



Noiselessly as the S2:>rlng-time 
Her crown of verdure weaves 

iVnd all the trees on all the hills 
Open thcii thousand leaves , 



r~ 



THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 139 



k 



So, without sound of music, 

Or voice of tliem that wept. 
Silently down from the mountain's crowii 

The great procession swept. 

Perchance the bald old eagle. 

On gray Beth-peor's height, 
Out of his rocky eyry 

Looked on the wondrous s\<y\xt ; 
Perchance the lion stalking 

Still shuns that hallowed spot ; 
For beast and bird have seen and heard 

That which man knowcth not. 

But when the warrior dieth. 

His comrades in the war. 
With arms reversed, and muffled drum, 

Follow the funeral car. 
They show the banners taken, 

They tell his battles won, 
And after him lead his masterless stcod, 

A\^hile peals the minute-gun. 

^\jnid the noblest of the land 

Men lay the sage to rest, 
And give the bard an honored place, 

\Yith costly marble drest — 



^ 



L40 THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 

in the great minster transept, 

Where lights like glories fall, 
And the sweet choir sings, and the organ rings 

Along the emblazoned wail. 

This was the bravest warrior 

That ever buckled sword ; 
This, the most gifted poet 

That ever breathed a word ; 
And never earth's philosopher 

Traced with his golden pen, 
On the deathless page, truths half so sago 

As he wrote down for men. 

And had he not high honor ? 

The hill-side for his pall, 
To lie in state while angels wait, 

AVith stars for tapers tall. 
And the dark rock-pines like tossing planiee 

Over his bier to wave, 
And God's OAvn hand, in that lonely land, 

To lay him In the grave I 

bi that deep grave without a name, 

AVhence his uncoffined clay 
Sliall break again — most wondrous thought — 

Before the Judfrmcnt-dav, 



if- 



ai|ir 



4h 



^'2WW." 141 



And stand, with glory wrapped around, 

On the hills he never trod, 
And speak of the strife that won our life 

With the Incarnate Son of God. 



lonely tomb in Moab's land 1 

O dark Beth-peor hill 1 
Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 

And teach them to be still. 
God hath His mysteries of grace, 

Ways that we cannot tell ; 
And hides them deep, like the secret sleep 

Of him He loved so well. 



NOW 



^ ^ I) ISE I for the day Is passing, 
jLA; And you lie dreaming on ; 
The others have buckled their armor, 

And forth to the fight are gone : 
A place in the ranks awaits you, 

Each man has some part to play ; 
The Past and Future are looking 

In die face of the stem To-day " 

^ —I ^ 



"m 



142 TUIC NEED OF JESUS. 



^ 




THE NEED OF JESUS. 

I'NEED Tbce, precious Jesiis! 
J., For I am full of sin ; 
My soul is dark and guilty, 

My heart is dead within ; 
I need the cleansing fountain, 

Where I can always flee — 
The blood of Christ most precioaa, 

The sinner's perfect plea. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus 1 

For I am very poor ; 
A stranger and a pilgrim, 

I have no earthly store ; 
I need the love of Jesus, 

To cheer me on my way ; 
To guide my doubting footsteps, 

To be my strength and stay. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

I need a friend like Thee — 
A friend to soothe and sympathize 

A friend to care for me ; 
I need the heart of Jesus, 

To feel each anxious care, 
To tell my every want. 

And all tnv s^)n'o\vs share 



^ 



I 

TEE NEED OF JESUS. 143 



OLf- 



1 need Thee, precious Jesus I 

For I am very blind ; 
A weak and foolish wanderer, 

With a dark and evil niiud ; 
I need the light of Jesus, 

To tread the thorny road, 
To guide me safe to glory — 

Where I shall see my God. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus 1 

I need Thee day by day — 
To fill me with Thy fulness, 

To lead me on my way ; 
I need Thy Holy Spirit, 

To teach me what I am, 
To show me more of Jesus, 

To point me to the Lamb. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

And hope to see Thee soon. 
Encircled with the rainbow, 

And seated on Thy throne ; 
There, with Thy blood-boughfc children, 

^^7 joy shall ever be. 
To sing Thy praises, Jesus I 

To gaze, my Lord, on Thee ! 



iJi ^ — ^ 

144 TEE CnniSTIAN AND ITIS ECHO. 



THE CIIRISTIA^'^ AND HIS ECHO. 



T 



HUE faith, producing love to God and man, 
Say, Eclio, is not this the Gospel plan ? 
The Gospel plan. 



Must I my faith and love to Jesus show, 
Ry doing good to all, both friend and foe ? 
Both friend and foe. 

But if a brother hates and treats mc ill, 
Must I return him good, and love him still ? 
Love him still. 

[f he my failings watches to reveal, 
Must I his faults as carefully conceal ? 
As carefully conceal. 

But if my name and character he blast, 
And cruel malice, too, a long time last; 
And, if I sorrow and affliction know, 
He loves to add unto my cup of woe ; 
In this uncommon, this peculiar case, 
S^Teet Echo, say, must I still love and blcs3 ? 
Still love and bless. 

Whatever usage ill I may receive;, 
Must T be patient still, and still forgive ? 

Be paliont still, and still forgivo. 



4^ ^ 

THE CHRISTIAN AND HIS ECHO. 145 

*VLy, Echo how is this V thou rt sure a do-vc I 
Thy voice shall teach mo nothing else but lovo 1 
Xothing else but love. 

Amen ! witli all my heart, then be it so ; 
'Tis all delightful, just, and good, I know: 
And now to practise I'll directly go. 
Directly go. 

Things being so, whoever me reject, 
My gracious God me surely will protect. 
Surely will protect. 

Henceforth I'll roll on Him my every caic, 
And then both friend and foe embrace in prayer. 
Embrace in prayer. 

But after all those duties I have done. 
Must I, in point of merit, them disown. 
And trust for heaven through Jesus* blood alone ? 
Through Jesus' blood alone. 

Echo, enough ! thy counsels to mine ear, 
Are sweeter than, to flowers, the dew-drop tear * 
Thy wise instructive lessons please me well : 
I'll go and practise them. Farewell, farewell 1 
PnAcnsE them. Farewell, farewell I 

^1n : ^ 



146 LES8 AND MORE. 



LESS AJVI) 2WRE. 

TWO prayers, dear Lord, in one — 
Give me both less and more ; 
Less of the impatient world, and more of IIjcc ; 

Less of myself, and all that heretofore 
Made me to sUp where willing feet do run, 
And held me back from where I fain would bo — 
Kept me, my Lord, from Thee ! 

All things which most I need 

Are Thine ; Thou wilt bestow 
Both strength and shield, and be my Avilling Guest ; 

Yet my weak heart takes up a broken reed, 
Thy rod and staff doth readily forego, 
And I, who might be rich, am poor, distressed, 

And seek but have not rest. 

How long, O Lord, how long ? 

So have I cried of late. 
As though I knew not what I well do know : 

Come Thou, Great Master Builder, and creaU.' 
Anew that which Is Thine ; undo my wrong — 
Breathe on tlils waste, and life and heallJi bestow 

Come, Lord, let it bo so I 



ILu 



__jf^- 



1^ 



I Ait it be so, and then — 

What then V My soul shall wait, 
And ever pray— all prayers, dear Lord, in one— • 

Thy will o'er mine in all this mortal state 
Hold regal sway. To Thy commands. Amen ! 
Break from my waiting lips till work is done, 

Ajid crown and glory won. 



COMFORT BY THE WAT. 

T JOURNEY through a desert drear and wild. 
Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts 
beguiled, 
Of Ilim on whom I lean — my strength and stay— 
I cnn Ibrgct the sorrows of the way. 

Thoughts of His love ! the root of every grace 
AVhic'h finds in this poor heart a dweUing-placc ; 
Tlie sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, 
And my calm pillow of repose by night. 



Thoughts of Hi;- sojourn in this vale of tears 1 
The tale of love unfolded in those years 



TTL- 



COMFORT BY THK WAY. 147 — F 



■& — ^ 4t 

148 RETROSPECT. 

Of sinless sulTcrlng and patient grace 
I love again, and yet again, to trace. 

Tlionglits of His glory ! on the cross I gaze, 
And tliere behold its sad, yet healing rays ; 
15'^acon of hope 1 which, lifted up on high, 
Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimmed eyo. 

Thoughts of His coming 1 For that joyful day 
In patient hope I watch, and wait, and pray ; 
The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flco» 
And what a sunrise will that advent be 

Thus while I journey on, my Lord to meet, 
My thoughts and meditations are so sweet 
Of Him on whom I lean — my strength, my stay — 
I can forget the sorrows of the way. 



RETROSPECT. 

O LOVING One ! O Bounteous One 1 
What have I not received from Tlico, 
Throughout the seasons that have gone 
Into the past eternity ! 

Lowly my name and mine estate ; 
Yet, Fatl^.cr, manv a child of Thine, 

^ ■ np- 



• RETllOSPEOT. 1-10 ^ 

Of purer heart and cleaner bands, 
Walks iu an humbler path than mlae. 

And, looking backward through the year 

Along the way my feet have pressed, 
I sec sweet places everywhere — 

Sweet places where my soul had rest. 

For, though some human hopes of mine 

Are dead, and buried from my sight, 
Yet from their graves immortal flowers 

Have sprung, and blossomed into light. 

Body, and heart, and soul have been 

Fed by the most convenient food ; 
My nights are peaceful all the while, 

And aU my mortal days are good. 

My sorrows have not been so light 

Thy chastening hand I could not trace \ 

Nor have my blessings been so great 
That they have hid my Father's face. 






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150 THE VERDICT OF DEATH. 



now DOTH DEATH SPEAK OF OUR 
BELOVED? 

" Tde rain that falls upon the height, 
Too gently to be called delight, 
In the dark valley reappears 
As a wild cataract of tears : 
And love in life shall strive to see 
Sometimes what love in death would be." 

Angel in the House. 

HOW doth Death speak of our bclovotl, 
"When it hath laid them low 5 
When it has set its hallowing touch 
On speechless lip and brow ? 

It clothes their every gift and grace 
With radiance from the holiest place, 
With light as from an angel's face ; 

Recalling with resistless force 
And tracing to their hidden source, 
Deeds scarcely noticed in their course. 

Tliis little loving fond device, 

That daily act of sacrifice. 

Of which too late we learn the prico I 

Opening our weeping eyes to trace 
Simple, unnoticed kindnesses, 
Forgotten notes of tenderness, 



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THE VERDIGT OF DEATH. 151 



"Which evermore to us must be 
Sacred as hymns In infancy, 
Learned listening at a mother's knee. 

Tlius doth Death speak of our beloved 

When it has laid them low : 
Then let Love antedate the work of Death, 

And do this now ! 



How doth Death speak of our belovcl. 

When It has laid them low • 
When it has set its hallowing touch 

On speechless Up and bro-sv ? 

It sweeps their faults with heavy hand, 
As sweeps the sea the trampled sand, 
Till scarce the faintest print is scanned. 

It shows how such a vexing deed 
^Yas but generous nature's weed, 
Or some choice virtue run to seed ; 

How that small fretting fretfulness 
Was but love's over-anxlousness, 
Which had not been, had love been loss- 

This failing, at which we repined, 
But the dim shade of day declined, 
WTiich should have made us doubly kind. 



^ —^ 

]52 TUB VERDICT OF DEATH. 

Tims doth Death speak of our beloved, 

When it has laid them low ; 
Tlien let Love antedate the Avork of Death, 

And do this now ! 



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How doth Death speak of our beloved, 

^Vhen it has laid them low ; 
When it has set its hailovring touch 

On speechless lip and broAv ? 

It takes each falling on our part, 
And brands it in npon the heart, 
With caustic power and cruel art. 

The small neglect that may have pained, 
A giant stature will have gained 
When it can never be explained : 

The little service which had proved 
How tenderly we watched and loved, 
And those mute lips to glad smiles mcTcd 

The little gift from out our ssore, 

^\niich might have cheered some checilcss 

hour. 
When they %vlth earth's poor needs were poor 
But never will be needed more ! 



-* ' ^ 

A CHIilSTJfAS HYMN. 153 

It shows our faults like fires at night ; 
It sweeps their failings out of sight, 
It clothes their good in heavenly light. 

O Christ our life ! fore-date the work of Leatli, 

And do this now ! 
Thou who art love, thus hallow our beloved 1 

Not Death, but Thou ! 



A CHRISTMAS HYMN. 

IN human form enthroned, 
The sin of man atoned, 
Immanuel sits in highest seat of heaven , 
Our nature there He wears. 
And that blest union bears, 
In David's city on the low earth given. 

He draws us by a love, 

Not such as seraphs move 
Li happy life through all the realms of space 

More subtle is the chord, 

The speaking of a word 
In language learned among our fleshly* race. 

" My blood, once flowing free 
Upon the darkened tree. 



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r"^ 154 THE WAT, THE TliUTIf, AXD TRE LIFE. 



Gives life to you in heaven's eternal room •, 
The Brother and the Friend, 
Thi'ough ages -without end, 

Shall e'en outlast the Savnur from the docui." 



THE WAY, THE TRUTH, ANL THE LIFE 

THOU art the AVay ! 
All ways are thorny mazes without Thee , 
Where hearts are pierced, and thoughts all aim- 
less stray, 
In Thee tlic heart stands firm, the life moves 
free : 
Thou art our Way ! 

Tliou art the Truth ! 
Questions the ages break against in vain 

Confront the spirit in its untried youth ; 
It starves while learning poison from the grain : 

Thou art the Truth ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Ti-uth for the mind, grand, glorious, Infinite, 

A heaven still boundless o'er Its highest growth ; 
Bread for the heart its daily need to meet. 
Thou ar^ the Truth I 



^ 



IS 



THE WAY, THE TliUTLT, AXD TJIE LIFE. 15; 



Tliou art the Light ! 
Earth beyond earth no faintest ray can give ; 
Heaven's shadeless noontide blinds our mortal 
sight ; 
In Thee we look on God, and love and live : 
Thou art our Light ! 

Thou art the Rock ! 
Doubts none can solve heave wild on every side, 
Wave meeting wave of thought in ceaseless 
shock ; 
On Thee the soul rests calm amidst the tide : 
Thou art the Rock ! 

Thou art the Life ! 
All ways without Thee paths that end in death ; 

All life without Thee with death's harvest rife ; 
All truths dry bones, disjoined and void of breath : 

Thou art our Life ! 

For Thou art Love I 
()(n' Way and End! the way is rest with Thco I 

O living Truth ! the truth is life in Thee I 
O Life essential ', life is bliss with Thee I 

For Thou art Love 1 



L 









168 TEE TIME FOR PRAYER. 



THE TIME FOR PRAYER. 

WHEN is the time for prayer ? 
AVith the first beams that liglit tlic 
morning sky, 
Ere for the toils of day thou dost prepare, 

Lift up thy thoughts on high ; 
Commend thy loved ones to His watchful caro : 
Morn is the time for prayer. 

And in the noontide hour, 

If worn by toil, or by sad cares oppressed, 
'llien unto God thy spirit's soitow pour, 

And He will give thee rest ; 
Tliy voice shall reach Him through the fields of 
air : 

Noon is the time for prayer. 

When the bright sun hath set, 

WTiile eve's bright colors deck the skies ; 
When with the loved at home again thou'st met, 

Then let thy prayers arise ; 
For those who in thy joys and sorrows share. 

Eve is the time for prayer. 

And when the stars come forth — 

When to the trusting heart sweet hopes ojc 
given, 



4:^ 



^ — ^ 



^ 



And tlie deep stillness of the hour gives \)irtb 
To pure bright dreams of heaven ; 

Kneel to thy. God — ask strength, life's ills to bear 
Night is the time for prayer. 

When is the time for prayer ? 

In ever?/ hour, while life is spared to thee ; 
In crowds or solitude, in joy or care, 

Thy thoughts should heavenward flee. 
At home, at morn and eve, with loved ones there, 

Bend thou the knee in prayer! 



LIGHT m DARKNESS. 

BREEZES of spring, all earth to life awak 

Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky, 
The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, 

The seed up-springing which had seemed to die 

Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, 
Have shed a gleam of light around the tomb ; 

But weary hearts longed for a surer token, 
A clearer' ray, to dissipate its gloom. 

jVnd this was granted ! See the Lord ascending 
On crimson clouds of evening calmly borne, 




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158 COMMUXION WITH 60D 



WItli hands oiit-stretclicd, and looks of love still 
bending 
On his bereaved ones, avIio no longer mourn . 

" I am the resurrection ! " hear Him saying, 
•' I am the life ; he who believes in me 

Shall never die ; the souls my call obeying, 
Soon where I am for evermore shall be." 

Sing halleluiah 1 light from heaven appearing, 
The mystery of life and death is plain ; 

Now to the grave we can descend unfeariiig, 
In sure and certain hope to rise again ! 



COMMUNION WITH GOD, 

LORD, I am come along with Thee ^ 
Thy voice to hear. Thy face to see, 
And feel Thy presence near ; 
It is not fancy's lovely dream. 
Though wondrous e'en to faith it seem, 
That Tliou dost wait me hero, 

A moment from this outward life, 
Its service, self-denial, strife, 
I joyfully retreat ; 
Mv soul, through intercourse witli Thee, 



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H- 



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-a- 



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coMjfuy/oy witjt god. loO 



Strengthened, refreshed, and cahned shall be, 
Its scenes again to meet. 

How can it be that one so mean, 
A sinner, selfish, dark, unclean. 

Thus in the Holiest stands ? 
And in that light divinely pure 
Which may no stain of sin endure. 

Lifts up rejoicing hands ! 

Jesus ! the answer Thou hast given ! 
Thy death, Thy life, have opened heaven 

And all its joys to me ; 
Washed in Thy blood — oh ! wondrous grace ] 
I'm holy as the Holy Place 

In which I worship Thee. 

How sweet, how solemn thus to lie, 
And feel Jehovah's searching eye 

On me well pleased- can rest I 
Because with His Beloved Son, 
The Father's grace has made me onc^ 

I must be always blest. 

The secret pangs I could not teU 

To dearest friend — Tliou knowest well , 

They claim Thy gracious heart : 
Thou dost remove with tender earc. 



1^ 



160 . COMMUKION WITH GOD. 



Or SAvcetly give me strength to bear 
The sanctifying smart. 

Thy presence has a wondrous pov/er I 
The sharpest thorn becomes a flower, 

And breathes a SAveet perfume : 
Whate'er looked dark and sad before, 
With happy light shines silvered o'er, 

There's no such thing as gloom 1 

Thou know'st 1 have a cross to bear ; 
The needful stroke Thou dost not spare, 

To keep me near Thy side ; 
But when I see the chastening rod 
In Thy pierced hand, my Lord, my God I 

I feel so satisfied ! 

Now, while I tell Tiiee how, within, 
I oft indulge my bosom sin. 

How faithless oft 1 prove 
No cold repulse, no frown I meet, 
But tender, soul -subduing, sweet 

Is the rebuke of Love. 



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f— ^ THE SUFFERER CHEERED. 161 *— ' 



THE SUFFERER CHEERED 

^ 6 Q AY ! shall I take tlie thorn away T 
lO So spake my gracious Lord — 
" O'er which thy sighs are heaved by day, 
Thy nightly tears are poured ? 
Say ! shall I give thee rest and ease, 

!Make earth's fair prospects rise, 
And bid thy bark o'er summer seas 
Float smoothly to the skies ? 

'■'■ Shall peace and plenty's cup swell high, 

Health leap through every vein, 
And all exempt thy moments fly 

From bitter inward pain ? 
Be naught to check the inspiring flow 

Of human friendship's tide ; 
And every want thy heart can know, 

Be quickly satisfied ? 

•' Kjiow, thine ease-loving heart might miss 

The comfort with the care I 
And that full tide of earthly bliss 

Leave little room for prayer I 
Few were thy visits to the throncj 

Unhastened there by pain ; 
Tliou, o'er thy bosom-sins, alone, 

Wouldst small advantage gain ! 



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62 THJ^ SUFFEUER CITEERED. 



Nor deem the highest, holiest joy 

A stranger still to woe ; 
Blest servants in my high employ, 

Most closely hnked they go. 
My love illumes with tenderest ra^-Q 

The path of self-denial ; 
And burning bright the glory's blaze 

That crowns the fiery trial ! 



In conscious weakness thou shalt hang 

On my almighty arm ! 
Soon as the thorn inflicts its pang, 

I'll pour my love's rich balm. 
Thou plainest in thy deepest woe 

Shalt feel me at thy side ; 
And, for my praise, to all shalt show. 

Thou art well satisfied. 



Then, wilt thou in thy Master's cup 

Consent awhile to share ? 
Know, when in love I drank it up, 

No wrath was left thee there 1 
Thy Saviour's love and power to bless. 

Trust where thou canst not sec I 
And in yon howling wilderness 

Step fearless forth with me ! '^ 



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^LL ly CHE 1ST 168 



% 



*' J^ord ! magnify Tliyself in nae ! " 

With faltering lips I said ; 
For, strong to bear as faith may be, 

Weak nature quails with dread. 
But He who through the shrinking fltsb 

The spirit's Avill can read, 
Smiled on EQs work, and bade afresh 

All grack meet all my need. 



ALL IX CHRIST. 

IN Thee my heart, O Jesus ! finds repose ; 
Thou bringest rest to all that weary are. 
Until that Day-spring from on high arose, 
I wandered through a night without a star ; 
INIy feet had gone astray 
Upon a lonely way : 
I'2ach guide I followed failed me in ray need ; 
Jvach stall" I leaned on proved a broken reed. 

Then, when in mine extremity to Thee 
1 turned, Thy pity did prevent my prayer ; 
From that entangling maze it set me free, 

And quickly loosed my heavy load of care 



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164 ALL IK CHRIST. 



^ 



Gave me the lofty scope 

Of a heaven-centred hope, 
And led me on with Thee, a gentle Guide, 
Thither, where pure immortal joys abide. 

Ihou art the great completion of my soul, 
The blest fulfilment of its deepest need ; 
AVhen self-surrendered to Thy mild control, 
It enters into Hberty indeed ; 
Thy love, a genial law. 
Its every aim doth draw 
Within its holy range, and sweetly lure 
rts longings toward the beautiful and pure. 

Thy presence is the never-failing spring 

Of hfe and comfort in each darker hour ; 
And, through thy grace benignly ministering, 
Grief wields a secret, purif^dng power. 
'Tis sweet, O Lord ! to know 
Thy kindredness with woe ; 
Sweeter to walk with Thee on ways apart 
Than with the world, where heart is shut to heart. 

For Thee eten\ity reserves her hymn ; 

For Thee earth has her prayers, and heaven her 
vows ", 
Thy saints adore Thee, and the seraphim. 

Under thy glory, stoop their starry brows. 



« EIMSBLF HA TH D ON^E IT r 166 

Oh ! may that light divine 
On me still clearer shine — 
A power, an inspiration from above, 
Lifting me higher to Thy perfect lovo ! 



"1±|. 



''HIMSELF IIATII BONE IT V 

" 'P'LMSELF hath done it" all! Ohl how 

JLjL those words 

Should hush to silence every murmuring thought 
Himself hath done it — He who loves me best, 

He who my soul with His own blood hath bought 

" Himself hath done it !" Can it then be aught 
Than full of wisdom, full of tenderest love ? 

Not one unneeded sorrow will He send, 

To teach this wandering heart no more to rovo. 

" Himself hath done It !" Yes, although severe 
May seem the stroke, and bitter be the cup, 

'Tis His OAvn hand that holds it, and I know 
He'll give me grace to drink it meekly uj). 

^' Himself hath done it !" Oh ! no arm but Ills 
Could e'er sustain beneath earth's dreary lot 5 

"But while I know He's doing all things well, 
My heart His loving-kindness questions roU 






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106 " niMSELF HATH DONE ITT 



"Himself hatli done it!** He wlio's searctied me 
through, 

Sees how I cleave to earth's ensnaring ties ; 
And so He breaks each reed on which niy soid 

Too much for happiness and joy relies. 

" Himself hath done it !" He would have me soc 
"What broken cisterns human friends mn^t prove ; 

That I may turn and quench my burning thirst 
At His own fount of ever-living love. 

•' Himself hath done it I" Then I fain would saj 
" Thy will in all things evermore be done ;" 

E'en though that will remove whom best 1 love, 
AYhile Jesus lives I cannot be alone. 

" Himself hath done it I" Precious, precious words, 
" Himself," my Father, Saviour, Brother, Friend ; 

Whose faithfulness no variation knows ; 
"Who, having loved me, loves me to the end. 

And when, in His eternal presence blest, 
J at His feet my crown immortal cast, 

I'll gladly own, with all His ransomed saints., 
" Himself liatii done it " — all, from first to last I 



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LTVIXa WATERS. 167 



I 



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LIVING WATERS. 

K some wild Eastern legend the story has been 

told, 
Of a fair and wondrous fountain, that (lowed In 

times of old ; 
("old and crystalline its waters, brightly glancing 

In the ray 
Of the Bummer moon at midnight, or the sim at 

height of day. 



And a good angel, resting there, once in a favored 

hour 
Infused into the Hmpld depths a strange mysterious 

power; 
A hidden principle of life, to rise and gush again, 
Wlierc but some drops were scattered on the dry 

and barren plain. 



So the traveller might journey, not now in feaj 

and haste, 
Far fhroTigh the mountaln-dcscrt, far o'er the 

sandj' waste, 



^ ^ — ^ 

168 LIVING WATEIiS. 

11' but lie sought this Ibuntain first, and from its 

wondrous store 
Tlie secret of unfailing springs along with him he 

bore. 

^^''ild and fanciful the legend — yet may not mean- 
ings high, 

Visions of better things to come, within its sh-adow 
He? 

Type of a better fountain, to mortals now un- 
sealed. 

The full and free salvation in Christ our Lord re- 
vealed ? 

Beneath the Cross those waters rise, and he who 

finds them there 
All through the wilderness of life the living stream 

may bear ; 
And blessings follow in his steps, until where'er he 

goes, 
'I'he moral wastes begin to bud and blossom as the 

rose. 



IIo ! every one thiit thirsteth, come to this fount- 
ain side ! 
Drink freely of its waters, drink, and be satisfied I 

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LIVING WATERS. 109 



Yet linger not, but hasten on, and bear to all 

around 
Glad tidings of the love, and peace, and mercy 

thou hast found ! 

To Afric's pathless deserts, to Greenland's frozen 
shore — 

Where din of mighty cities sounds, or savage mon- 
sters roar — 

Wherever man may wander with his heritage of 
woe, 

To tcU of brighter things above, go, brothers, 
gladly go ! 

Then, as of old in vision seen before the prophet's 

eyes, 
Broader and deeper on Its course the stream of 

life shall rise ; 
And everywhere, as on it flows, shall carry light 

and love, 
Peace and good-will to man on earth, glory to 

God above ! 



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170 ABIDE WITH £75. 



ABIDE WITH US. 

rr^ HE tender light is fading where 
I We pause and linger still, 

And, through the dim and saddened air, 
Wc feel the evening chill. 

Long hast Thou journeyed with us, Lord, 

Ere we Thy face did know ; 
Oh 1 still Thy feUowship afTord, 

While dark the shadows grow. 

For passed is many a beauteous field, 

Beside our morning road ; 
And many a fount to us is sealed 

That once so freshly flowed. 

The splendor of the noontide lies 

On other paths than ours ; 
The dews that lave yon fragrant skies 

Will not revive our flowers. 



It is not now as In the glow 

Of life's impassioned heat. 
When to the heart there seemed to flow 

All that of earth was sweet. 

XT z TT^ 



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ABIDE WITH US. iTl 



Sometliing has faded — soinetlung died — 

Without us and within ; 
We more than ever need a guide ; 

Blinded and weak with sin. 

The weight is heavy that we bear, 
Our strength more feeble grows ; 

Weary with toil and pain and care, 
We long for sweet repose. 

Stay with us, gracious Saviour, stay, 
While friends and hopes depart ! 

Fainting, on Thee we Avish to lay 
The burden of our heart. 



Abide with us, dear Lord ! remain 
Our lafe, our Truth, our Way ! 

So shall our loss be turned to gain- 
Night dawn to endless day. 



* ^ 



4" ^ 



172 THB BETTER LIFE. 



THE BETTER LIFE. 

'All tbe way by which the Lord thy God led tfaea 

WHEN we reach a quiet dwelling 
On the strong eternal hills, 
And our praise to Him is swelling, 

Who the vast creation fills : 
"VVlien the paths of prayer and duty 

And affliction all are trod, 
And we wake and see the beauty 
Of our Saviour and our God ; 

With the light of resurrection, 

'When our changed bodies glow, 
And we gain the full perfection 

Of the bliss begun below ; 
TMien the life that flesh obscureth 

In each radiant form shall shine, 
And the joy that aye endureth 

Flashes forth in beams divine 



While wc wave the palms of glory 

Through the long eternal years, 
Shall we e'er forget the story 

Of our mortal griefs and fears ? 

^ ^^ ^ 



TEE BETTER LIFE. 1 7S "*^ 

Shall we e'er forget the sadness 

And tlie clouds that hung so dun, 
When our hearts are filled with gladness 

And our tears are dried by Him ? 

Shall the memory be banished 

Of His kindness and His care, 
When the wants and woes are vanished, 

Which He loved to soothe and share — 
All the way by which He brought us, 

All the grievings which He bore. 
All the patient love He taught us, 

Shall we think of them no more ? 

Yes I we surely shall remember 

How He quickened us from death : 
How He fanned the dying ember 

With His Spirit's glowing breatli. 
We shall read the tender meaning 

Of the sorrows and alarms 
As we trod the desert, leaning 

On His everlasting arms. 

And His rest will be the dearer 

When we think of weary wa}-s, 
And His light will seem the clearer 

As we muse on cloud v days. 



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174 VRA Y FOR WHOM THO U LO VZST. 



Oh ! 'twill be a glorious ruorrotv 
To a dark and stormy day ; 

"^Vc shall recollect our sorrow 
As the streams that pass away 



PRAY FOR WHOM THOU LOVEST. 

Prat for whom thou lovest; thou wilt never have any com- 
fort of his friendship for whom thou dost not pray. 

YES, pray for whom thou lovest ; thou mayst 
vainly, idly seek 
The fervid words of tenderness by feeble words to 

speak ; 
Go kneel before thy Father's throne, and meekly, 

humbly there 
Ask blessing for the loved one in the silent hour 
of prayer. 

Yes, pray for whom thou lovest ; if uncounted 

wealth were thine — 
'I'he treasures of the boundless deep, the riches of 

the mine — 
Thou coald'st not to thy cherished friends a gift 

so dear impart, 
As the earnest benediction of a deeply loving 

lie art- 



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DHAim^G WATEIi. Ho 



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Soek not the worldling's friendship, it shall droop 

and wave ere long 
In the cold and heartless glitter of the plcasurc- 

lovinn; throiii, 
IJiit seek the friend who when thy prayer for him 

shall murmured be, 
Breathes forth in faithful sympathy a fervc;nt 

prayer for thee. 

And should thy flowery path of life become a path 
of pain, 

The friendship formed in bonds like these thy 
spirit shall sustain ; 

Years may not chill, nor change invade, nor pov- 
erty impair, 

ITic love that grew and flourished at the holy time 
of prayer. 



DRAWIXG WATER. 

I HAD drank with lip unsated 
A? here the founts of pleasure burst; 
1 had hewn out broken cisterns. 
And they mocked my spirit's thiist. 

And I said. Life is a desert. 
Hot and measureless and dry. 



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170 DRAWING WATER. 

And God will not give me water, 
Though I pray and faint and die 1 

Spoke there then a friend and brother, 
" Rise and roll the stone away ! 

There are founts of life upspringing 
In thy pathway every day." 

Then I said my heart was sinfid — 
Very sinful was my speech ; 

All the wells of God's salvation 
Are too deep for me to reach. 

And he answered : '' Kise and labor ! 

Doubt and idleness is death ; 
Shape thou out a goodly vessel 

With the strong hands of thy faith!" 

So I wrought and shaped the vessel, 
Then knelt lowly, humbly there ; 

And I drew up living water, 

With the golden chain of prayer. 



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_i±J li- 

J A TRUE DREAM. 1 77' I— 



A TRUE DREAM. 

IK'lEAMT we danced In careless glee, 
With hearts and footsteps hght and free, 
That one so dearly loved and I, 
As in the childish days gone by 

For ever. 



I felt her arms around me fold, 
I heard her soft laugh as of old ; 
Her eyes with sniiles were brimming o'er, 
Eyes we may meet on earth no more 
For ever. 

Then there came mingling with my dreams 
A sense perplexed of loss and change — 
An echo dim of time and tears ; 
Until I said : " How long it seems 
Since thus we danced I Is it not strange 
Do you not feel the weight of years ? 
Or dread life's evening shadows cold ? 
Or mourn to think we must grow old ?" 
Wondering, she paused a little whUe, 
Then answered, with a radiant smile : 

' ^0, never ! " 

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I— J 1^8 A TRUE DREAM, • — I 



178 A TRUE DREAM, 

Wondering as if to her I told 

The customs of some foreign land 

Or spoke a tongue she knew of old, 
But could no longer understand. 

TiU o'er her face tliat sunshine broke, 

And with that radiant smile she spoke 
That " Never.-' 

But not until the dream had fled 
I knew the sense of what she said ; 
Young with immortal truth and lovO; 
Child in the Father's house above 
For ever. 

We echo back thy words again ; 
They smite us with no grief or pain ; 
We journey not towards the night. 
But to the breaking of the light 
Together. 

Our life is no poor cisterned store 
The lavish years are draining low \ 

But living streams that, welling o'er, 
Fresh from the Living Fountain flaw 
For ever. 



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*' (? LORD! THO U KNO WEST. " 179 



"0 LORD! THOU KXOWEST:' 

ry^H OU knowest, Lord, tlic weariness and sor 
JL row 

Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for rest • 
Cares of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow. 

Blessings implored, and sins to be confessed, 
I come before Thee at Thy gracious word, 
And lay tliem at Thy feet — Thou knowest, Lord. 

Thou knowest all the past ; how long and blindly 
On the dark mountains the lost wanderer 
strayed ; 
now the good Shepherd followed, and how kindly 

He bore it home, upon His shoulders laid, 
And healed the bleeding wounds, and soothed the 

pain, 
And brouglit back life, and hope, and strength 
again. 

riiou knowest all the present: each temptation. 
Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear ; 

All to myself assigned of tribulation. 
Or to beloved ones, than self more dear ! 

All pensive mcmaries, as I journey on, 

fycngings for vanished smiles, and voices gone 1 



-^ 



4 ^ 

180 ^0 LORD! THOU END west:" 



Thou knowest all the future : gleams of gladness, 
By stormy clouds too quickly overcast ; 

Hours of sweet fellowship, and parting sadness 
And the dark river to be crossed at last : 

Ob ! w^hat could confidence and hope afford 

To tread tliat path, but this — tlioit, knowest ., Lord ! 

Thou knowest, not alone as God, all-knowmg ; 

As man, our mortal weakness thou hast proved ; 
On earth, with purest sympathies o'erflowing, 

O Saviour! Thou hast wept, and Thou hast 
loved ! 
And Love and Sorrow still to Thee may come, 
And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home. 

Therefore I come, Thy gentle call obeying, 
And lay my sins and sorrows at Thy feet, 

On everlasting strength my weakness staying. 
Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness complete: 

Then rising and refreshed, I leave Thy throne, 

And follow on to know as T am known ! 



4i ■ ^ 



4J Lh. 



MimSTJtY. J 81 



"The Son of Maa came not to be ministered unto, but Ic 
minister." 

SINCE service is the highest lot, 
And all are in one Body bound, 
In all the world the place is not 

Which may not with this bhss be crowned 

The sufferer on the bed of pain 

Need not be laid aside from this ; 
But for each kindness gives again 

" This joy of doing kindnesses." 

ITie poorest may enrich this feast. 

Not one lives only to receive ; 
But renders through the hands of Christ 

Richer returns than man can give. 

Tlie little child, in trustful glee. 

With love and gladness brimming o'er 

Many a cup of ministry 

May for the weary veteran pour. 

The lonely glory of a throne 

May vet this lowly joy preserve ; 

^ —^ 



182 MINISTRY. 



JiOve may raake that a stepping-stone, 
And raise "I reiim" into "I serve." 



This, by the ministries of prayer, 

The loneliest life with blessings crowtly., 

Can consecrate each petty care. 
Make angels' ladders out of clouds. 

Nor serve we only when we gird 
Our hearts for special ministry ; 

That creature best has ministered 
Which is what it was meant to be. 

Birds by being glad their Maker bless 
By simply shining, sun and star ; 

And we, whose law is love, serve less 
By what we do than what we are. 

Since service is the highest lot 
And angels know no higher bliss, 

Then with what good her cup is fraught 
Who was created but for this ! 



^ ^ nft 



* ^ 



■^ 



IT IS WELL. 183 



IT IS WELL. 

SO they said, who saAv the Avondcre 
Of Messiah's power and love ; 
So ihey sing, who see His glory- 
In the Father's house above ; 
Ever reading, In each record 
Of the strangely varied past, 
" All was well which God appointed, 
All has wrought for good at laat." 

And on earth we hear the echoes 

Of that chorus In the sky ; 
Through the day of toil or weeping, 

Faith can raise a glad reply. 
It is well, O saints departed ! 

Well with you, for ever blest. 
Well with us, who journey forward 

To your glory and your rest ! 

Times are changing, days are flying, 

Years are quickly past and gone, 
"While the wildly mingled murmur 

Of life's busy hum goes on ; 
Sounds of tumult, sounds of triumph, 

Marriage chimes and passIng-beU ; 
Yet through aU one key-note sounding, 

A ngels' watchword : " It is well." 



4J -i:L 



1B4 IT IS WELL. 



-^ 



Wo may hear it, through the nishiug 

Of the midnight tempest's wave ; 
We may hear it, through the wee[)icg 

Round the newly covered grave 
In the dreary house of mourning, 

In the darkened room of pain, 
If we listen meekly, rightly. 

We may catch that soothing strain 

For Thine arm thou hast not shorten! I, 

Neither turned away thine ear, 
O Saviour ! ever ready 

The afflicted's prayer to hear ! 
Show us light, still surely resting 

Over all Thy darkest ways ; 
Give us faith, still surely trusting 

Through the sad and evil days. 

And thus, while years are tleeting, 

Though our joys are with them gone, 
In Thy changeless love rejoicing 

We shaU journey calmly on ; 
Till at last, all sorrow over. 

Each our tale of grace shall tell, 
[n the heavenly chorus joining : 

" Lord, thou hast done all things well ! ' 



rp" 



4j ^ — li. 



TEE CROSS 1?5 



I. 

THE CROSS. 

- Kow there Elcod by the Cross of Je:;u3 His mother." 
ri^IlE Strongest light casts deepest shade, 

J_ The dearest love makes dreariest loss, 
And she His birth so blessed had made 
Stood by Him dying on the cross. 

Yet since not grief but joy shall last, 

The day and not the night abide, 
And all time's shadows, earthward cast, 

Arc lights upon the " other side ;" 

Through what long bliss that shall not fail, 

That darkest hour shall brighten on ! 
Better than any angel's " Haill" 

The memory of " Behold thy Son ! " 

Blessed in thy lowly heart to store 

The homage paid at Bethlehem -, 
But far more blessed evermore. 

Thus to have shared the taunts and shame. 

Thus with thy pierced heart to have stood 
'Mid mocking crowds and owned Him thine, 

True through a world's ingratitude, 
And owned in death by lips Divine. 

^ __ ^ 



186 THE CROWN. 

YL 

THE CROWK 

rrillOU shalt be crowned, O mother blest ! 
_X_ Our hearts behold thee crowned e'en now ; 
The croAvn of motherhood, earth's best, 
O'ershadowing thy maiden brow. 

Tliou shalt be crowned ! More fragrant bays 

Then ever poet's brows entwine, 
For thine immortal hymn of praise, 

First Singer of the Church, are thine. 

Tliou shalt be crowned ! All earth and heaven 

Thy coronation pomp shall see ; 
The Hand by which thy crown is given 

Shall be no stranger s hand to thee. 

Thou shalt be crowned ! but not a nueen ; 

A better triumph ends thy strife : 
Heaven's bridal raiment, white and clean, 

The victor s crown of fadeless life. 

Thou shalt be crowned ! but not alone — 
No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down ; 

Crowned with the mjTiads round His thi'ono, 
And casting at His feet thy crowu. 



^ 



4^ -^ 



PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 187 



PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 

ALL In weakness, all in sorrow, 
O my God ! I come once more, 
Lifting up the sad petition 

Thou hast often heard before, 
In the former days of darkness, 
In the time of need of yore. 

For a present help in trouble 
Thou hast never ceased to be. 

Since at first a weeping sinner 
Fell before Thee trustingly ; 

And Thy A^olce is ever sounding : 
" O ye weary ! come to Me." 

Lord, Thou knowest all the weakness 
Of the creatures Thou hast made, 

For with moital imperfection 
Thou didst once Thy glory shade ; 

Tliou hast loved and Thou hast sorrowed, 
In the veJl Df flesh arrayed. 

Thus I fear not to approach Thee 
With my sorrow and my care ; 

Hear my mourning supplication, 
Cast not out iny humble prayer! 



-4^ 



188 PRAYER OUT OF TEE DEPTHS. 



4^ 



Lay not on a greater burden 
Than Thy feeble child can bear I 

Earth has lost its best attractions, 
All the brightest stars are gone — 

All is clouded now and cheerless. 
Where so long a glory shone : 

^Vliere I walked with loved companions, 
I must wander now alone. 

All is dark on the horizon, 
Clouds returning after rain ; 

Faith is languid, Hope is weary, 
And the questions rise again : 
" Doth the promise fail for ever V 

Hast thou made all men in vain V 

O my God ! rebuke the tempter. 

Let not unbelief prevail ! 
Pray for me. Thy feeble servant, 

That my weak faith may not fail. 
Nor my Hope let go her anchor 

When the waves and storms assail ! 

All these passing changing shadows, 
All these brief, bright joys below — 

Let me grasp them not so closely, 
Nor des'j'e nor prize them so ! 



■* 



4 



* 



k 



Lij: 

TBATER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 189 

:Nor endure this bitter anguisli 

AVhen Thou bid'st me let them go t 

O Redeemer 1 shall one perish 

Who has looked to Thee for aid ? 
Let me see Thee, let me hear Thee, 

Through the gloomy midnight shade ', 
Let me hear Thy voice of comfort : 

" It is I i be not afraid ! " 

For when feeling Tlwu art near me, 

All my loneliness is o'er, 
And the tempter's dark suggestions 

Can oppress my soul no more ; 
I shall dread the path no longer 

Where Thyself hast gone before. 

And the lights of earth all fadmg, 

I can gaze on tearlessly, 
When the glory that excelleth, 

When the light of life I see. 
Whom besides, in earth or heaven, 

Should my heart desire, but Thee ? 



^ 



-* ^ 



190 SALOMH. 



SAL OME. 



SHE knew not what for tliem she sought 
At His right hand and left to sit ! 
How great the glory, passing thought ; 
How rough the path that led to it. 

They knew not what of Him they asked ' 
But He their deeper sense distilled. 

Gently the selfish wish unmasked, 
But all the prayer of love fulfilled. 



And heard but of the bitter cup ; 
Love would but to her Lord be nigh, 
And won her measm'e full — heaped up 

With vision of His glory blessed ; 

Stood on the mountain by His side ; 
Leaned, at the Supper, on His breast ; 

Stood close beneath Him when He died. 

One brother shared His cup of woe — 
The second of His martyr-band : 

One, by His glory smitten low. 

Rose at the touch of H"s right hand. 



4^ 4^ 

■— * MEJUORIES. 191 ^ 

Thus, when by earth's cross lights perplexed, 

We crave the thing that should not be, 
God, reading right our erring text, 

Gives what we would ask, could we sec. 



MEMORIES 

WHEN fall the evening shadows, long and 
deep, across the hill ; 
When all the air is fragrance, and all the breezed 
still ; 

When the summer sun seems pausing above the 

mountain's brow, 
As if he left reluctantly a scene so lovely now ; 

Tlien 1 linger on the pathway, and I fondly gaze, 

and long, 
As if reading some old story those deep purple 

clouds among ; 

Then Memory approaches, holding up her mag^ic 

glass, 
Fointing to famihar figures, which across the sim 

face pass. 



^ 



jii^- 



•— ^ 192 MEMORIES. » 

And often do I question, as I \icv7 that pliantom 

train, 
\\'"Qetlicr most with joy or sadness I behold them 

thus again. 

Tlicy are there, those scenes of beauty, wliere 
life's brightest bom'S hare fled, 

And I haste, vith dear companions, the old paths 
again to tread ; 

But, suddenly dissolving, all the loveliness is flown. 
And [ find a thorny wilderness, where I must 
wallc alone. 

Tiiou art there, so loved and honored, as in each 

former hour. 
When we read thine cye*s deep meanmg, when 

we heard thy words of power ; 

When our souls, as willing captives, have sought 

to follow thine, 
Tracing the eternal footsteps of Might and Love 

Divine. 

Rut o'er that cherished image falls a veil of clouds 

and gloom. 
And beside a bier T tremble, or I weep above a 

tomb. 

4i ^ 



ifEMORIES. 1 93 

And ever will the question come, O Memory 1 

again, 
AVhctbcr in thy magic mirror there is most of 

bhss or pain ? 

vVould I not wish the brightness were for ever hid 
from view, 

ff but those hours of darkness could be all for- 
gotten too ? 

Then, weary and desponding, my spirit seeks to 

rise 
Away from earthly conflicts, from mortal smiles 

or sighs. 

r do not think the blessed ones with Jesus have 

forgot 
TliG changing joys and sorrows which have marked 

their earthly lot ; 

But now, on Memory's record their eyes can 

calmly dwell ; 
'Jl:cy can see, what here they trusted — God hath 

done all things well ; 

And vain regrets and longings arc as old tilings 
passed away ; 

N"o shadows dim the sunslunc of that bright eter- 
nal day ! 






jX+ 



1^^! ^ 



194 TII£ WIDOW OF NAIN. 



THE WIDOW OF NAIX. 

ri"lHY miracles are no state splendors 
X. Whose pomps Thy daily -works excel , 
The rock Avhich breaks the stream, but rendcn 
Its constant current audible. 

The power which startles us in thundere 

Works ever silently in light ; 
And mightier than these special wondci-s, 

The wonders daily in our sight. 

Rents in the veils Thy works that Ibid, 
They let the inner light shine through ; 

The rent is new, the light is old, 
Eternal, never ever new. 

And, therefore, when Thy touch an-ests 
The bearers of that bier at Nain, 

Warm on unnumbered hearts it rests, 
Though yet their dead live not again 

And Thy compassionate " Weep not ! ^ 
On this our tearful earth once heard, 

For every age with comfort fraught, 
Tells how Tliv heart ij^ ever stirred 



THE WIDOW OF XAIX. 195 



4^ 



^ 



Nature repeats the tale each year, 

She feels Thy touch through countless springs, 
And, rising from her wintery bier, 

Throws off her grave-clothes, lives and sings. 

And when Thy touch through earth shall thrill 
This bier whereon our race is laid, 

And, for the first time standing still, 
Tlie long procession of the dead 

At Thy " Arise ! " shall wake from clay, 
Young, deathless, freed from every stain *, 

When Thy " Weep not ! " sliall wipe away 
Tears that shall never come again ; 

^Vhcn the strong chains of death are burst, 
And lips long dumb begin to speak, 

What name will each then utter firet ? 
AVljuit music shall that silence break ? 



4-j-i 



-^n. 



196 PATITWA YS OF TUB HOL Y LAIW, 



PATHWAYS OF THE HOLY LAND. 

rT"mE pathways of Thy land are little changed 
_JL Since Thou wert there ; 

The busy world through other ways has ranged, 
And left these bare. 



The rocky path still climbs the glowing steep 

Of Olivet, 
Though rains of two millenniums wear it deep, 

Men tread it yet. 

Still to the gardens o'er the brook it leads, 

Quiet and low ; 
Before his sheep the shepherd on it treads, 

His voice they know. 

Tlie wild fig thi'ows broad shadows o*er It still, 

As once o'er Thee ; 
Peasants go home at evening up that hill 

To Bethany. 

And; as when gazing Thou didst weep o'er them, 

From height to height 
The white roofs of discrowned Jerusalem 

Burst on our sijrht. 



4. 



PATnWAYS OF THE HOLY LAJfDS. 197 



h 



Tliese ways were strewed with garments once, and 
palm, 
Which we tread thus ; 
Here, through Thy triumph, on Thou passe dst, 
calm, 
On to Thy cross. 

The waves have washed fresh sands upon the shore 

Of Galilee ; 
But, cliiselled in the hill-sides, evcrmoi-e 

Thy paths we see. 

Man has not changed them in that slumbering 
land. 
Nor time effaced ; 
^Vhere Thy feet trod to bless, we still may stand 
. All can bo traced. 



i'et Ave have traces of Thy footsteps far 

Truer than these ; 
Wlicre'cr the poor, and tried, and suffering aro, 

Thy steps faith sees. 



Nor with fond sad regrets Thy steps wc trace; 
Thou art not dead ! 



^ 



4 




198 FOR THE NEW YEAR. 



■^ 



Our path is onward, till we see Thy face, 
And hear Thy tread. 

And now, wherever meets Thy lowliest band 

In praise and prayer, 
Tlicro is Thy presence, there Thy Holy Land, 

Thou, Thou, art there I 



FOR THE NEW YEAR 

ANOTHER year ! another year 
Has borne its record to the skies 
^Vnother year I another year, 

Untried, unproved, before us lies ; 
We hail with smiles its dawning ray — 
How shall we meet its final day ? 



Another year, another year I 

Its squandered hours will ne'er return 
Oh ! many a heart must quail with fear 

O'er memory's blotted page to turn. 
No record from that leaf will fade, 
Not one erasure may be made. 



J 



* : ^ 

FOR THE 2^EW YEAR. 199 

Another year, anotlier year ! 

How many a grief lias marked its flight ! 
Some whom we love, no more are here — 

Translated to the realms of light. 
Ah ! none can bless the coming year 
Like those no more to greet us here. 

Another year, another year ! 

Oh I many a blessing, too, was givcu. 
Our lives to deck, our hearts to cheer, 

And antedate the joys of heaven ; 
But they, too, slumber in the past, 
TVliere joys and griefs must sink at last. 

Another year, another year ! 

Gaze we no longer on the past, 
Nor let us shrink, with faithless fear, 

From the dark shade the future caets. 
The past, the future— what are they 
To those whose lives may end to-day ? 

Another year, another year ! 

Perchance the last of life below. 
Wlio, ere its close, Death's call may hear 

ISTonc but the Lord of life can know 
Oh ! to be found, whene'er that day 
May come, pieparcd to pass away. 



f 



200 THE PERPETUITY OF JOY IN HE A VEN . 



Another year, another year 1 

Help us earth's thorny path to tread •, 
So may each moment bring us near 

To Thee, ere yet our lives are fled. 
Saviour ! we j-ield ourselves to Theo, 
for time and for eternity. 



THE PERPETUITY OF JOY m HE A VEN 

HERE brief is the sighing, 
And brief is the crying, 
For brief is the life I 
The life there is endless, 
The joy there is endless, 
And ended the strife. 

What joys are in heaven ? 
To whom are they given ? 

Ah ! what ? and to whom ? 
The stars to the earth-born, 
• Best robes " to the sin-worn, 

The crown for the doom I 

O country the fairest ! 
Our country the dearest. 



^ 



J 



I TEE PERPETUITY OF JOY IN BEA VEX. 201 



We press tOAvard thee ! 
O Sion the golden I 
Our eyes now are holden, 

Thy hght till wc see : 

Tliy crystalline ocean, 
Unvexed by commotion, 

Thy fountain of life ; 
Thy deep peace unspoken, 
Pure, sinless, unbroken — 

Thy peace beyond strife : 

TTiy meek saints all glorious, 
Thy martyrs victorious, 

Who suffer no more ; 
Thy halls full of singing, 
Thy h^Tnns ever ringing 

Along Thy safe shore. 

Like the lily for whiteness. 
Like the jewel for brightness, 

Thy vestments, O Brido I 
The Lamb ever with thee, 
The Bridegroom is with thoe — 

With thee to abide ! 

We know not, we know not, 
All human words show not. 



^ 

,-j:^" 






r 



202 TUBOUGE THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 



h 



The joys we may reach ; 
The mansions preparing, 
The joys for our sharing, 

The welcome for eacL 

O Slon the golden 1 
My eyes still are holdcn, 

Thy light till I see ; 
And deep in thy glory. 
Unveiled then before mc, 

My Iving, look on thee 



rnnouoii the flood oy foot. 

rriHE sun had sunk in the West 
JL For a little while, 
And the clouds which gathered to see him die 
Had caught his dying smile. 

^Ye sat In the door of our Tent, 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

'Where misty shadows lay. 

The great and terrible Land 
Of wilderness and droughty 



r:^- 



4^- ■ -Ti- 

TITROUGE THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 203 

Lay in the shadows behind us, 
For the Lord had brought us out. 

The great and terrible River, 

Though shrouded still from view, 
Lay in the shadows before us, 

But the Lord would bear us through. 

In the stillness and the starlight. 

In sight of the Blessed Land, 
We thought of the bygone Desert-lifo, 

And the burning, blinding sand. 

Many a dreary sunset, 

Many a dreary dawn, 
We had watched upon those desert hills 

As we pressed slowly on. 

Yet sweet had been the silent dews 

Which from God's presence fell, 
And the still hours of resting 

By Palm-tree and by Well, 

Till we pitched our Tent at last 

The Desert done. 
Where we saw the hills of the IIolj- Land 

Gleam in our sinkin-j sun . 



i 



* 



204 THROUGH THE FLOOD 0^' FOOT. 



And we sat in the door of our Tent, 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

Where misty shadows lay : 

"We were talking about the King, 

And our elder Brother, 
As we were used oO.en to speak 

One to another. 

The Lord standing quietly by, 

In the shadows dim, 
Smiling perhaps, in the dark, to hear 

Our SAveet, sweet talk of Ilim. 

" I think in a little while," 

I said at length, 
" We shall see Ilis face in the city 

Of everlasting strength ; 

" And sit down under the shadow 
Of His smile. 
With great delight and thanksgiving. 
To rest awhile." 

" But the Kiver — the awful River ! 
lu tlic dying light," 



%L_ ^ Tp- 



TEBOUGE THE FLOOD ON FOOT. '20h 



+ 



And even as he spoke, the murmur 
Of a River rose on the night 1 

And One came up through the meadow, 

Where the mists lay dim, 
Till. He stood by my friend lu the star-hght, 

And spake to him : 

" I have come to call thee Home," 

Said our veiled Guest ; 
" The terrible journey of life Ls done, 

I will take thee into Rest. 

" Arise I thou shalt come to the Palace, 
To rest thee for ever ;" 
And He pointed across the dark meadow, 
And down to the River. 

And my friend rose up in the shadows. 
And turned to me — 
'-'■ Be of good cheer," I said faintly, 
" For He calleth thee." 

For I knew by His loving voice. 

His kingly word. 
The veiled Guest in the star-light dim 

Was Clu'ist, the Lord i 



^ ^ 

206 THROUGH THE FLOOD OjV FOOT. 

So we three went slowly down 

To the River-side, 
Till we stood in the heavy shadows 

By the black, wild tide. 

I could hear that the Lord waa speaking 

Deep words of grace, 
I could see their blessed reflection 

On my friend's pale face. 

The strong and desolate tide 

Was hurrying wildly past, 
As he turned to take my hand once more. 

And say Farewell, at last. 

"Farewell — I cannot fear. 

Oh ! seest iliou His grace ?" 

And even as he spoke, he turned 

Again to the Master's Face. 

So they two went closer down 

To the River-side, 
And stood in the heavy shadows 

By the black, wild tide. 

But when the feet of the Lord 

Were come to the waters dim, 
They rose to stand, on cither hand, 

And left a path for Jlim : 

^ r^ 



^ ^ 

' THJtOVGlJ THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 2 J? 

So they two passed over swiftly 

Toward the Goal, 
But the wistful, longing gaze 

Of the passing soul 

Grew only more rapt and joj-ful 

As he clasped the Master's hand , 
I think, or ever he was aware 

They were come to the Holy Land. 

Now I sit alone in the door of my Tc:ii 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

Where misty shadows play. 

Tlie great and terrible Land 

Of wilderness and drought, . 
Lies in the shadows behind me. 

For the Lord hath brought me out j 

Tlie great and terrible River 

I stood that night to view, 
Ijies in the shadows before me, 

But the Lord will bear me through. 



J 




3 



^X)S THE LONG GOOD-NIOET. 



u 



THE LONG GOOD-maUT. 

I JOURNEY forth rejoicing, 
From this dark vale of tears, 
To heavenly joy and freedom, 

From earthly bonds and fears : 
Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit. 

Good-night, till then ! 



Go to thy quiet resting, 

Poor tenement of clay ! 
From all thy pain and weakness 

I gladly haste away ; 
But still in faith confiding 

To find thee yet again, 
All glorious and immortal. 

Good-night, till theu ! 



Why thus so sadly weeping, 
Beloved ones of my heart ? 

Tlie Lord is good and gracious, 
T}io\]gh now Tic bid? us part. 



4 [ ] r-Hr 



4^ -^- 



TEE LONG GOODNIGHT. 209 

Oft have we met in gladness, 

And we shall meet again, 
All sorrow left behind us. 

Good-night, till then I 

I go to see His glory, 

Whom we have loved below : 
I go, the blessed angels, 

The holy samts to know. 
Our lovely ones departed, 

I go to find again, 
And wait for you to join us. 

Good-night, till then ! 

I hear the Saviour calling — 

The joyful hour has come : 
The angel-guards are ready 

To guide nie to our home. 
Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit. 

Good-niffht, till thcD ! 



^ rf- 



4^ 



210 FOOTSTEPS ON THE OTHER SIDE. 



fln 



FOOTSTEPS ON THE OTHER SIDE 

QITTING in my bumble doorway, 
k3 Gazing out into the night, 
Listening to the stormy tumult 

With a kind of sad delight — 
Wait I for the loved wlio comes not, 

One whose step I long to hear ; 
One who, though he lingers from me, 

Still is dearest of the dear. 
Soft ! he comes — now heart, be quick — 

Leaping in triumpliant pride ! 
Oh ! it is a stranger footstep, 

Gone by on the other side. 

All the night seems tilled with weeping 

Winds are wailing mournfully ; 
And the rain-tears together 

Journey to the restless sea. 
[ can fancy, sea, your murmur, 

As they with your waters flow, 
liike the griefs of single beings, 

Maldng up a nation's woe ! 

Branches, bid your guests be silent 
Hush a moment, fretful rain ; 

Breeze, stop sighing — let me listen, 
God grant not again in vain 1 



^ ^ 



O ONE HOME. 211 



In Qiy cheek the blood is rosy, 
Like the Washes of a bride. 

Joy ! Alas ! a stranger footstep 
Goes on by the other side. 

Ah ! how many wait for ever 

For the ste}>s that do not come ! 
Wait until the pitying angels 

Bear them to a peaceful home ! 
Many in the still of midnight 

In the streets have lain and died. 
While the sound of human footsteps 

Went by on the other side. 



GONE HOME. 

C^ ONE home ! Gone home ! She lingers 
JT here no longer 

A restless pilgrim, walking painfilly, 
Witli homesick longing, daily growing stronger, 
And yearning visions of fche joys to be. 

Gone home ! Gone home 1 Her earnest, active 
spirit, 

Her very playfulness, her heart of love ! 
T)ie heavenly mansion now she doth inherit, 

Which Christ made ready ere she went above. 



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4^ — ^ 

""^ 212 FUITERAL HYMN. 

Gone home \ Gone home ! The door through 
which she vanished 

Closed with a jar, and left us here alone. 
We stand without, in tears, forlorn and banisluMl, 

Longing to follow where one loved has gone. 

Gone home Gone home 1 Oh ! shall we ever 
reach her, 

See her again, and know her for our own ? 
Will she conduct us to the heavenly Teacher, 

And bow beside us, low before His throne ? 

Gone home ! Gone home ! O human-hearted 
Saviour ! 

Give us a balm to soothe our heavy woe ; 
And if Tliou wilt, in tender, pitying favor, 

Hasten the time when we may rise and go ! 



FUNERAL HYMN. 

COINIE forth I come on, with solemn song 
The road is short, the rest is long. 
Tlie Lord brought here. Hs calls away 

Make no delay, 
Tliis home was for a passing day. 




^ 



4^ ^ 



FUJ^ERAL HYMH. 213 



Here in an inn a stranger dwelt, 
Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
Poor dwelling, now we close thy door \ 

The task is o'er, 
The sojourner returns no more. 

Now of a lasting bome possessed, 
He goes to seek a deeper rest. 
Good-night ! the day was sultry here 

In toil and fear ; 
Good-night ! the night Is cool and clear, 

Chime on, ye bells I again begin, 
And ring the Sabbath morning in. 
The laborer's week-day work is done, 

The rest begun, 
WTiich Christ hath for His people won. 

Now open to us gates of peace I 
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease ; 
"Ye quiet slumberers, make room 

In your still home 
For the new stranger who has come ! 

How many graves around us lie I 
How many homes are in the sky I 



^ ^ ^ 



214 WE ABE THE LORD'S. 



fe 



Yes, for each saint doth Chi-ist prepare 

A place with care. 
Thy home is waiting, brother, there. 

Jesus, Thou reignest, Lord, alone ; 
Thou wilt return and claim Thine own. 
Come quickly, Lord ! return again ! 

Amen ! Amen 1 
Thine seal us ever, now and then 1 



WE ARE THE LORD'S. 

WE are the Lord's. His, earthly life and 
spirit 1 
We are the Lord's, who once for all men died \ 
We are the Lord'?, and shall all things inherit I 
We are the Lord's, who wins us all beside I 

We are the Lord's ! So in most holy living, 

Glad let utj, body, soul, be His alone ; 
And heart and mouth, and act join, witness giving 

That it is surely true : we are His own 1 

We are the Lord's ! So in the dark vale gleamnig, 
One star dispels our fear, and keeping ward, 

i^ _ ^ 



4f 



EUTHAN-ASY 215 



Dotli light our way with sweet anchangeful beam- 
ing: 
It is the precious Word. We're thine, O Lord I 

We are the I^ord's ! So will He on the morrow 
Watcli our last pang, when other help rewards 

No pain, and Death brings not a touch of sorrow 
This Word's for ever true : we are the Lord's. 



EUTHANASY. 

WE need no change of sphere 
To view the heavenly sights, or hear 
The songs which angels sing. The hand 

Which gently pressed the sightless orbs ere 

while. 
Giving them light, a world of beauty, and the 
friendly smile, 
Can cause our eyes to see the better land- 

We need no wings 

To soar aloft to realms of higher things 
But only feet which walk the paths of peace > 

Guided by Him whose voice 

Greets every ear, makes every heart rejoice, 
Saying, Arise, and walk where sorrows coase. 



-|f 



-* -^ 



216 EUTHANAJST. 



Visiting spirits are near ; 

They are not wholly silent, but we can not hear 
Nor understand their speech. 

Our Saviour caught His Father's word, 

And men of old, dreaming and walking, heard 
The breathings of a world we can not reach. 

They mounted to the skies, 

And read deep mysteries. 
While yet on earth, they placed a ladder there 

Like Jacob's, that each round should lead, 

By prayer outspoken, in a word or deed, 
The soul to heights of clearer, purer air. 

Tliey saw no messenger of gloom 

In him whom we call Death, nor met their doom 
As prisoner his sentence ; but naturally, as bud 
unfolds to flower, 

As child to man, so man to angel — 

They recognizing death the glad evangel, 
Leading to higher scenes of life and power, 



i 



4^ 



TEE ELEVENTH HOUR. 21*7 



THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 

IT^AINT and worn and aged 
^ One stands knocking at a gate 
Though no light shines in the casement, 

Knocking though so late. 
It has struck eleven 
In the courts of heaven, 

Yet he still doth knock and wait. 

While no answer cometh 

From the heavenly hill, 
Blessed angels wonder 

At his earnest wdl. 
Hope and fear but quicken 
While the shadows thicken • 

He is knocking, knocking still. 

Grim the gate unopened 

Stands with bar and lock : 
Yet within the unseen Porter 

Hearkens to the knock. 
Doing and undoing, 
Faint and yet pursuing. 

This man's feet are on the Rock- i 

-* ^ 



4 — ^ ^ 



218 THE ELEVENTH HOUIL 



With a cry unceasing, 

Knocketh, prayetli he : 
" Lord, have mercy on rae 

When I cry to Thee." 
With a knock unceasing, 
And a cry increasing: 

" O my Lord ! remember mo." 

Still the Porter standeth, 

Love-constrained He standeth near 
Wilde the cry increaseth 

Of that love and fear : 
"Jesus, look upon-me — 
Christ, hast Thou foregone me ? — 

If I must, I perish hero.'' 

Faint the knocking ceases, 

Faint the cry and call : 
Is he lost mdeed for ever, 

Shut without the wall ? 
Mighty Arms surround him, 
Arms that sought and found him, 

Held, withheld, and bore through all. 



celestial mansion ! 
Open wide the door 

^ rf 



*^ BRING I 2^0 OUR SHEAVES WITH US." 219 



Crown and robes of whiteness, 

Stone inscribed before, 
Flocking angels bear them ; 
Stretch thy hand and wear thoiu J 

Sit thou down for evermore. 



''BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITH USy 

THE time for toil is past, and night has come, 
The last and saddest of the harvest eves ; 
Worn out with labor long and wearisome, 
Drooping and faint, the reapers hasten home, 
Each laden with his sheaves. 

Lust of the laborers, Thy feet I gain, 

liord of the harvest ! and ray spirit gncves 
That I am burdened, not so much with grain 
As with a heaviness of heart and brain. 
Master, behold my sheaves ! 

Few, light, and worthless — yet their trifling weiglit 

Through all ray frame a weary aching leaves ; 
For long I struggled with ray hapless fate. 
And staid and toiled till it was dark and late — 
Yet these are all mv sheavca I 



^ 




^ ^ 

220 '' BRIN-QINO OTTR SHEAVES WITH VS.^ 



Full well I know I have more tares than wheat — 
Brambles and flowers, dry stalks, and withered 
leaves ; 

Wherefore I blush and Aveep, as at Thy feet 

I kneel down reverently, and repeat, 
" Master, behold my sheaves 1" 

I know these blossoms, clustering heavily 

With evening dew upon their folded leaves, 
Can claim no value nor utility — 
Therefore shall fragrancy and beauty be 
The glory of my sheaves. 

So do I gather strength and hope anew ; 

For well I know thy patient love pereeivcs 
Not what I did, but what I strove to do — 
And though the full, ripe ears be sadly few 

Thou wilt accept my sheaves. 



k^ ^ 



4 



TKE MEETING PLACE, 221 



n 



THE MEETING PLACE. 
I. 

THE daylight has faded over the sea, 
The shadows are gathering heavily, 
The waters are moaning drearily, 
And there is no haven in sight for me — 

Only a black, wild, angry haven ; 
Only a rolling, moaning sea ; 

And a small, weak bark by the tempest driven 
Hither and thither helplessly. 
For I am alone on this moaning sea ; 
Alone, alone, on the wide, wild sea ! 
Only God stands by in the dark by me, 
But his silence is worse to bear than the moan 

Of the dreary waters that will not stay; 
And I am alone — ay, worse than alone, 

For God stands by, and has nothing to say I 
And Death is creeping over to me — 
Creeping across the drear black sea — 
Creeping into the boat with me ! 
And he will sink the small, weak bark. 
And I shall float out in the dreary dark 
Dead, dead, on the wide, wild sea ; 
A dead face up to the cruel sky — 



4j ^ 



222 TEE MEETING PLAGE. 



Dead eyes that had wearied sore for the light- — 

A dead hand floating helplessly, 
Tired with hard rowing through all the night ; 

This is what thou shalt see, O God ! 

From thy warm, briglit home beyond the cloud ; 

Thou denied'st me light, though it overflowed, 
And there was not room for it all in heaven — 

Thou denied'st one ray unto me, O God ! 
By the windy storm and tempest driven ; 

Thou shalt look on my lost face, God, and see 

What it was to die in the dark for me ! 
But I cannot reach Him with this v^'ild cry — 

I cannot reach Him with this poor hand ; 

Peaceful He dwells in the peaceful land, 
And the suiile on his face is untouched by me — 
Only another Eternity lost, 
Only another poor soul gone down, 

Far out at sea while he smileth on ! 
The songs of Heaven are loud and sweet, 
And thrill His heart with joy ; it is meet 
That He should not catch the far-off moan 
Of another soul undone — undone ! 
Here we part, O God ! 

Thou to thy life and light, 
To the home where thy dear ones gather to Thee, 

I to my Death and Night, 
A lost thing, with nothing to do with Thee ; 



r 



^ 



THE MEETING PLAGE. 223 



Drifting drearily out to sea. 
Thou hast shut from Thee my feeble prayer ; 
Let us part, O God ! 



Through the darkness over the sea 

A voice came calling — calling to me — 

A gentle voice through the angry night, 

And I thought, " Some one else is out to-night, 

Out, out, on the wide, wild sea ; 

Can it be any one seeking me ?'' 
So I answered as well as I could from my place, 
Though the wind and rain were beating my face ; 

And through the darkness, over the sea. 

Still the voice came calling, calling to me ; , 
Nearer and nearer it came to me. 
And one came into the boat from the sea. 
The wind fell low round my little bark 
As a wounded hand touched mine in the dark, 

And a weary head on my breast was laid ; 
And a trembling voice, as of one whom pain 

Had done to death, in a whisper said, 

" I had nowhere else to lay my head." 

nr. 

And it was thus that He came to me ; 
I had spoken against Him bitterly, 



n 



■^ 



+^ 



224 COMHJ! 



As of (^ne wlio sat smiling on in heaven — 

Smiling and resting peacefully — 
"While I was perishing tempest-driven ; 
But it was thus that He came to me, 
Through the deep waters struggling on, 
Wherein standing or foothold found He none ; 
The wild wind beating about His face, 
Fainting and sinking in that dark place ; 
He had been weary and far from home, 
Struggling forsaken, alone — alone ! 

So out in the night on the wide, wild sea, 
When the wind was beating drearily. 
And the waters were moaning wearily, 

I met with Him who had died for me. 



o 



COME! 

H, word, of words the sweetest I 
Oh, word, in which there lie 



All promise, all fulfillment, 
And end of mystery I 

Sorrowing or rejoicing. 
With doubt or terror nigh, 

I hear the " Come !" of Jesus, 
And to His cross I fly. 



^ ^ 



4+- 



COME! 225 



Sometimes so far I've wandered, 

So lost I seem to be, 
That faintly, like an echo, 

I hear the " Come to Me." 
« Where art Thou, O Beloved ?" 

Bewildered, sad, I cry ; 
Then, following that sweet summons, 

Till at His feet I lie. 

Oh, soul ! why shovildst thou wander 

From such a loving Friend ? 
Cling closer— closer to Him, 

Stay with Him to ihe end. 
Alas ! I am so helpless, 

So very full of sin. 
Forever I am wandering 

And coming back again. 

Oh. each time draw me nearer, 

That soon the " Come !'' may be 
Kaught but a gentle whisper 

To one close, close to Thee ; 
Then, over sea or mountain, 

Far from or near my home, 
I'll take Thy hand and follow, 

At that sweet whispered " Come I" 



^ r^ 



r 




% 



226 I^TO HIS HANDS. 



INTO HIS HANDS. 
luther's HYior. 

COMMIT thou all thy griefs 
And ways into His hands ; 
To His sure truth and tender love 

Who earth and heaven commands : 
Who points the clouds their course ; 

When winds and seas obey. 
He shall direct thy wandering feet, 
He shall prepare thy way. 

Put then thy trust in God ; 

In duty's path go on ; 
Fix on His word thy steadfast eye, 

So shall thy work be done, 
No profit canst thou gain 

By self-consuming care ; 
To Him commend thy cause, his ear 

Attends the softest prayer. 

Give to the winds thy fear, 

Hope, and be undismayed, 
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears — 

God shall lift up thy head. 



^ 



4i ^ 



INTO HIS HANDS. 227 



Through waves and clouds and storm, 

He gently cleaves the way ; 
Wait, then, His time ; the darkest night 

Shall end in brightest day. 

Still heavy is thy heart ? 

Still sinks thy spirit down ? 
Cast off the weight, let fear depart, 

And every care be gone. 
What though thou rulest not, 

Yet earth and heaven and hell 
Proclaim God sitteth on the throne. 

And doeth all things well. 

Leave to His sovereign sway 

To choose and to command ; 
So shalt thou, wondering, own His way 

How wise, how strong His hand ; 
Far for above thy thoughts 

His counsel shall appear 
When fitly he the work hath wrought, 

That caused thy needless fear. 

Thou seest our weakness. Lord ! 

Our hearts are known to Thee ; 
Oh, lift then up the sinking heart. 

Confirm the feeble knee ! 



if- 



^ 



-^ 



228 ''MORTALLY WOUNDED: 



Let us in life, in death, 
Thy steadfast truth declare, 

And publish with our latest breath 
Thy love and guardian care. 



V 



"MORTALLY WOUNDED:' 

I LAY me down to sleep, 
With little thought or care 
Whether my waking find 
Me here — or there ! 

A bowing, burdened head, 

Only too glad to rest. 
Unquestioning, upon 

A loving breast. 

My good right hand forgets 

Her cunning now ; 
To march the weary march 

I know not how. 

I am not eager, bold, 

Nor strong — all that is past 1 
I am willing not to do, 

At last, at last I 



4^ 



4^ ^ 



WITS FAITH AND PBA YER, 

My half-day's work is done, 
And this is all ray part : 

I give a patient God 
My patient heart ; 

And grasp His banner still. 

Though all its bine be dim ; 
These stripes, no less than stars, 

Lead after Him. 

Weak, weary and uncrowned, 
I yet to 'bear am 'strong ; 

Content not even to cry, 
" How long ! How lono- !" 



229 



WITJ7 FAITH AND PRA YER. 

WITH faith and prayer. 
Dear Lord ! the burden Thou hast sent 
I gladly bear. 

For His dear sake who went 

With mortal anguish rent. 
Up Pilate's stair — 
And from his judgment-hall 
Bearing His cross in weakness for us all 



-11 




4^ ^ 

"^ 230 witb: faith and fra yfb. ^ 

The faith, how small 
O Lord ! with which I tread the way. 

Give, at my call, 
Faith that, from day to day, 
Is fed by Christ alway. 

I shall not fall ; 
But prove the promise blest, 
" We which believe, do enter into rest." 

The prayer, how weak 

Lord ! that lifts my heart to Thee. 
But this I seek — 

This one thing give to me — 
Help my infirmity ; 

Within me speak. 
And by the Spirit taught 

1 shall know what to pray for as I ought. 

From pain and care, 
O Lord ! I seek not to be free. 

But this my prayer — 
Open my eyes to see 
That Thou art leading me. 

Then I can bear 
To walk in darkness still, 
Walking with Thee, submissive to Thy will. 

+^ ^ _rp- 



WITR FAITH AND PRA YEB. 231 



^ 



Clouds come and go, 
But, Lord, clouds only make more bright 

The after glow ! 
After the darkest night 
Will come the morning light, 

And well I know 
The morn itself may hide 
Its face, but light shall be at even-tide. 

Home is more near, 
O Lord, by every passing day ; 

Home is more dear 
By every prayer I pray — 
By every footstep of the way 

That brings me there. 
Where Thou arr, let me be, 
For where Thou art is Home and Heaven to me. 

" A little while !" 
Dear, Lord, the precious words are thine ! 

A little while ! 
The blessed hope is mine, 
Till on these eyes shall shine 

Thy radiant smile, 
And thine own hand of grace 
Shall wipe all tears from my uplifted face. 



k 







232 " ^^^'^ I i>iD FOR thee;' etc. 



" THIS I DID FOR THEE— WHA T DO EST 
THOU FOR ME?" 

I GAVE my life for thee, 
My precious blood I shed, 
That thou might'st ransomed be, 
And quickened from the dead. 
I gave my life for thee ; 
What hast thou given for me ? 

I spent long years for thee 

In weariness and woe, 
That one eternity 

Of joy thou might'st know ; 
I spent long years ibr thee ; 
Hast thou spent one for me ? 

My Father's house of light, 

My rainbow-circled throne, 
I left for earthly night. 

For wanderings sad and lone ; 
I left it all for thee ; 
Hast thou left aught for me ? 

I suifered much for thee, 

More than thy tongue can tell, 



-t: 



4 - — ^ 



BE IS 3IY SHEPEEED. 233 



Of bitterest agony, 

To rescue thee from hell ; 
I suifered much for thee ; 
What dost thou bear for me ? 

And I have brought to thee, 

Down from my home above, 
Salvation full and free. 

My pardon and my love ; 
Great gifts I brought to thee ; 
What hast thou brought to me ? 

let thy life be given, 

Thy years for me be spent, 
World-fetters all be riven. 

And joy with suflering blent ; 

Give thou thyself to me. 

And I M ill welcome thee ! 

—Motto placed under a print of Christ in the 
study of a German divine. 



HE IS MY SHEPHERD. 

HE is my Shepherd, I His sheep; 
I do not want to know 
Whether the way be soft or steep 
By which I am to go. 

in . rp- 



4^ 4t- 

234 SU IS 3IY SHEPHEBI). 

If green and smooth the mountains be, 

I need not ask for more ; 
If stony, He will carry me, 

As He has done before. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep ; 

We travel onward still, 
By pools, where water-lilies sleep, 

By many a quiet hill ; 
I feed in many a grassy dell, 

I drink the waters clear ; 
The gracious Voice I know so well, 

Is music to my ear. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep ; 

[ wandered once, I know ; 
I heard Him on the mountains weep. 

That I should leave Him so. 
I trembled, as I faintly guessed 

A sorrow so divine. 
For as He clasped me to His breast 

The blood gushed forth on mine. 

He is my Shepherd, T His sheep, 

And what if death be near ? 
The shadows up the valley creep, 

And yet I do not fear ; 

^ ^ 



^ 



HE IS MY SBEPHEBD. 235 



-n±. 



As closer to His side I cling, 

I feel the way so true 
With which His love was pledged to bring, 

And safe has brought me through. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep ; 

We journey on and on, 
At last a smile U23on His lips 

Shall tell me all is won. 
The table that He spreads for me 

My foes shall all behold. 
And in these trembling fingers see 

His cup of royal gold. 

The cup He put so gently by 

When death was drawing near, 
He freely fills for such as I, 

And tells me not to fear. 
And for those funeral odors shed 

Upon His dying brow, 
He pours the oil of joy instead 

On each disciple now. 

Shepherd, Good Shepherd ! turn and see I 

I follow far behind, 
Thy voice of mercy calling me, 

Comes borne on every wind. 



rp' 



-4^... ^ 



236 WALKmo ijv whitk 

Set wide Thy Father's open door, 
That I the light may see 

And in His house forever more 
At last abide with Thee. 



WALKING IN WHITE. 

OLORD my God, 'tis early dawn, 
And I would walk with Thee to-day I 
Clothe me in garments white and clean, 
All bright and beautiful, I pray. 
Grant I may walk with greatest care, 
So I may keep their lustre bright ; 
To-day, my Father, hear my prayer, 
And let me walk with Thee in white. 

The road was thorny yesterday. 

Because I walked so far from Thee ; 

Yet oft I heard Thee kindly say, 

" Come nearer, child ; come near to me I" 

With garments soiled on yestereve, 

I grieved to view the painful sight ; 

To day, my Father, O reprieve. 

And let me walk with Thee in white ! 



^i ' ^ 

WALKING IN WSITK 237 

Now may I plunge within the tide — 
That fount for all our guilt and woe, 
Once opened in my ^aviour's side; 
'Twill make my garments white as snow, 
With hands and feet, with head and heart, 
All clean and pure before thy sight. 
Not for one moment, Lord, depart, 
But let me walk with Thee in white ! 

No thought, no word, no deed to-day. 
Which may displease my blessed Lord ; 
No idle loitering by the way. 
But sweetly trusting in Thy Word. 
Whate'er my hands may find to do. 
That may I do with all my might ; 
To-day, my Father, pure and true. 
Grant I may walk with Thee in white. 

The failures of the yesterday, 
The cares which may to-morrow come ; 
Each tear, each fear, now chase away, 
And guide me on my journey home. 
And when the evening shadows fall, 
And I come kneeling in Thy sight, 
Then may I feel, my Lord, my all, 
That I have walked with Thee in white. 

-h. ZI ^ 



4^ ' % 



238 TRE CROSS-BEARER, 



And can I walk each day witli Thee, 
With robes all white, and pure and clean 
Oh, tell me, Saviour, can I flee 
Forever from that monster — sin ? 
I know that in our home above, 
Thy saints in all their full delight 
Shall bask within redeeming love, 
And always walk with Thee in white. 



THE CROSS-BEARER. 

WHEN I set out to follow Jesus, 
My Lord a cross held out to me ; 
"VVliich I must take, and bear it onward, 
If I would his disciple be. 

I turned my head another way, 

And said, Not this, my Lord, I pray ! 

Yet, as I could not quite refuse him, 

I sought out many another kind, 
And tried among those painted crosses 
The smallest of them all to find. 

But still the Lord held forth my own ? 
This must thou bear, and this alone. 

^ ^ 



^ 4r 

TMU CBOSS-BEAJREB. 239 

Unlieediiig then my dear Lord's offer 

My burdens all on Him to lay, 
I tried myself my cross to lighten, 
By cutting part of it away. 

And still the more I tried to do, 
The rest of it more heavy grew. 

Well, if I cannot go without it, 

I'll make of it the most I may ; 
And so I held my cross uplifted, 
In sight of all who came that way. 
Alas ! my jDride found bitterly, 
My cross looked small to all but me ! 

And then I was ashamed to bear it. 

Where others walked so free and light, 
And trailed it in the dust behind me, 
And tried to keep it out of sight. 
Till Jesus said. Art thou indeed 
Ashamed to follow as I lead ? 

No ! no ! — Why this shall be my glory — 

All other things I'll count but loss. 
And so I even fashioned garlands. 
And hung them round about my cross. 
Ah, foolish one ! such works are dead : 
Bear St for me, the Master said. 



4. 



^ 



4j "^ 

240 ^^^ CBOSS-BEAREPu 

And still I was not prompt to mind him, 

But let my self-will choose the way ; 
And sought me out new forms of service, 
And would do all things but obey. 
My Lord ! I bless Thee for the pain 
That drove ray heart to Thee again. 

I bore it then, with Him before me, 

Right onward through the day's white heat ; 
Till, with the toil and pain overmastered, 
I fainting fell down at His feet. 

But for His matchless care that day, 
I should have perished where I lay. 

But oh, I grew so very weary 

When life and sense crept back once more ! 
The whole horizon hung with darkness, 
And grief where joy had been before ; 
Better to die, I said, and rest, 
Than live with such a burden pressed. 

Then Jesus spoke : Bring here thy burden, 

And find in me a full release ; 
Bring all thy sorrows, all thy longings, 
And take instead my perfect peace. 
Trying to bear thy cross alone ! — 
Child, the mistake is all thine own. 

^ ■ ^ 



4!- 



FINISHED WORK. 241 

And now my cross is all supported, — 
Part on my Lord, and j)iirt on me : 
But as He is so much the stronger, 
He seems to bear it — I go free. 

I touch its weight, just here and here, — 
Weight that would crush, were He not near. 

Or if at times it seemeth heavy ; 

And if I droop along the road ; 
The Master lays His own sweet promise * 
Between my shoulder and the load : 
Bidding my heart look up, not down. 
Till the cross fades before the crown. 



FINISHED WORK. 

FINISHED work ! For Jesus dieth ; 
Woes and stripes and sufferings cease. 
Finished work ! For Jesus liveth. 
Leaving us His perfect peace. 

Finished work ! Oh, blessed promise, 

Toiling, fainting by the way ; 
Finished work shall we accomplish 

If we only watch and pray. 

* '• The pillow of the ^^xovo^^Qy—EutherJord. 
I—, 21 

■qn np" 



^1 

242 'TOST TENEBBAS LUX: 






Finislied work ! Oh, Holy Sj)irit, 
Help our faitli and keep us pure ! 

Finished work ! The Master saith it, 
Like the rock His word is sure. 

Finished work ! When it is ended, 
Perfect love shall cast out fear. 

Finished work ! Co-worki.ig with Him, 
In His form shall we appear. 

Finished work ! Oh, glorious foretaste I 
Leaning then on Jesus' breast ; 

Finished work ! No tears, no sorrow, 
But eternal, heavenly rest. 



"POST TENEBRAS LUX" 

IT is His way, and so it must be right ; 
Although at every step some foot that bleeds 
Leaves print of anguish, still our Father leads 

Through darkness unto light. 
So dark it seems ! We long for break of day ; 
We know not Jesus on the 'midnight flood. 
Ah, once He trod the path of woe and blood, 
His solitary way ! 



J 



e: 



# 



L" 



'TOST TEXEBBAS LUX. 



243 



%- 



And yet that path of deepest gloom and woe 
Led up to glory, greater for the cross 
To \\hich he bowed in life-long want and loss, 

With " Father, even so !" 
For midnight darkness often bears within 
Its baffling blackness germs of heaven's light ; 
God's holiness is not one ray less bright 

For all this dark world's sin. 



He holds us in the hollow of His hand, 
And gives us light as we can bear it now. 
His glory's shadow upon Moses' brow 

Was brightness far too grand 
For sinful Israel's eyes to look upon ; 
Yet those whose patient hearts seek daily strength, 
Shall surely have the eagle's wings at length, 

To mount toward the sun. 



And eagle's vision, clear and bright and strong, 
E'en here is given those whose hearts are pure ; 
They, seeing Him invisible, endure, 

Although the way be long. 
To them a light ariseth ; and the day. 
Hid from Egyptian eyes by dark eclipse. 
Shines bright as noon, and on their trustful lips 

Wakes praises while they pray. 




f 



-% 



244 BE A UTIFUL HANDS. 



And so we need no longer vainly grope, 
Moaning tlie poet's deatli-cry, '' Light, more light !" 
We need not earth's dark lanterns, for the night 

Is brilliant with the hope 
Of fairer day-dawn than e'er blessed the hills 
Of God around Jerusalem of old. 
Ay ! while we watch the east, a flush of gold 

The glad horizon fills. 

For God is light itself: in Him we know 
There is no darkness ; and when we at last 
Dwell in Him truly, darkness shall be past, 

And life be all aglow. 
O Christian ! as the bird tha' sings at night, 
Or, as the bird that God has taught to wait 
Until the daybreak, sing at heaven's gate, 

For, " after darkness, light I" 



^ 



BEAUTIFUL HANDS. 

SUCH beautiful, beautiful hands. 
They're neither white nor small, 
And you I know, would scarcely think 
That they were fair at all. 



^ 



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BEAUTIFUL HAXDS. 245 



IVe looked on hands whose form and hue 

A sculptor's dream might be, 
Yet are these aged wrinkled hands 

Most beautiful to me. 

Such beautif 1, beautiful hands — 

Though heait was weary and sad, 
These patient hands kept toiling on, 

That the children might be glad. 
I almost weep, as looking back 

To childhood's distant d-\y, 
I think how these hands rested not 

When mine were at their play. 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands, 

They're growing feeble now ; 
For time and pain have left their mark 

On hand and heart and brow. 
Alas ! alas ! the nearing time, 

And the sad, sad day to me. 
When 'neath the daisies, out of sight, 

These hands will folded be. 

But oh, beyond this shadow-lamp, 

Where all is bright and fair, 
I know fall well these dear old handa 

Will palms of victory bear. 

21* I 

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246 



MY SHIPS. 



Where crystal streams, through endless years, 

Flow over golden sands, 
And where the old grow young again, 

I'll clasp my mother's hands. 



AIY SHIPS. 
I. 

AH, years ago ! — no matter where, 
Beneath what roof or sky, 
I dreamed of days, perhaps remote. 
When ships of mine that were afloat 

Should in the li arbor lie, 
And all the costly freights they bore 
Enrich me both in mind and store. 

What dreams they were of Argosies 

Laden in many a clime ; 
So stoutly built, so bravely manned, 
No fear but they would come to land 

At their appointed time ; 
And I should see them, one by one, 
Close furl their sails in summer's sun. 



4i 



And then, while men in wonder stood, 
My ships I would unlade ; 



rp" 



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MY SEIFS. 247 



My treasures vast they should behold, 
And to my learning and my gold 

What honors would be paid ! 
And though the years might come and go, 
I could but wiser, richer grow. 

n. 

In later years, — no matter where, 

Beneath what roof or sky, 
I saw the dreams of days remote 
Fade out, and ships that w^ere afloat, 

As drifting wrecks go by. 
And all the many freights they bore 
Lay fathoms deep, or strewed the shore ! 

While ships of which I never thought 

Were sailing o'er the sea ; 
And one by one, with costlier lade, 
In safety all the voyage made. 

And brought their freights to me ; 
What I had lost but trifle seemed. 
And I was richer than I dreamed I 

Kg wondering crowd, with envious eye, 

Looked on my treasures rare ; 
Yet they were weightier fa^ than gold ; 
They still increase, though I gTow old, 



^■ 



R- 



4 ^ 

248 ^^ THE FIELD. 



And are beyond compare : 
Would all the restless hearts I see, 
Had ships like these that came to me I 



IN THE FIELD. 

FIGHTING the Battle of Life ! 
With a weary heart and head ; 
For in the midst of the strife, 
The banners of joy are fled, 
Fled and gone out of sight. 

When I thought they were so near, 
And the music of hope this night, 
Is dying away on my ear. 

Fighting alone to-night — 

With not even a stander-by 
To cheer me in the fight, 

Or to ]iear me wlien I cry. 
Only the Lord can hear, 

Only the Lord can see 
The struggle within, how dark and drear, 

Though quiet the outside be. 

Lord, I would fain be still 
And quiet behind my shield ! 

^ ^ ^ 



-* — ^ 



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IN THE FIELD. 249 



But make me to love Thy will, 
For fear I should ever yield. 

Even as now, my hands, 
So doth my folded will 

Lie waiting Thy commands, 
Without one anxious thrill. 

But, as with sudden pain. 

My hands unfold and clasp — • 
So doth my will start up again. 

And taketh its old firm grasp. 
Nothing but perfect trust. 

And love of Thy perfect will, 
Can raise me out of the dust, 

And bid my fears be still. 

O Lord, Thou hidest Thy face. 

And the battle clouds prevail ; 
O grant me Thy most sweet grace, 

That I may not utterly fail 1 
Fighting alone to-night ! 

With what a sinking heart — 
Lord Jesus, in the fight, 

stand not thou apart ! 



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250 BEVIVED. 



RE V I V E D. 

BREAK out my lieart in joyous strain, 
Tbe sun has conquered night's sad reign, 
And sheds down radiance clear ; 
Soon as the King turned round his face * 
My sorrow gave to rapture place ! 
Now light and life are here, 
The spices flow 
God's work to show, 
Within His garden wrought. 
O Lord, my Lord ! 
By Thy dear Word, 
How is my heart continually restored I 

My soul in doubt and bondage lay, 
And all my joy had fled away — 

I sought Him, He was gone ! 
My pardon I could call to mind. 
But still my Lord I could not find — ■ 
'Twas day without the sun ! 

* " While the King turns round, my spikenard sendeth forth 
Ihe smell thereof."-- (German Bible. 
In our version the words are : 

'•Sitteth at his table." 

^ ^ ^ 



^'-¥ 



EEVIVED. 251 



And touched me, too, 
With His most gracious hand ; 
Saviour mine, 
That touch of Thine 
A Fountain proves of balsam most divine. 



Blessing, salvation, Life and Light, 
And all my wealth and all my might 

On look of 'I'hine depend ; 
Just as when earth lies steeped in dew, 
Let but the morning sun break through, 
Scents from wak'd flowers ascend ; 
In my heart's ground, 
The blossoms found, 
Breathe sweet upturned to Thee ! 
"When Thy beams bright 
Dispel the night 
They raise their drooping faces to the light. 



Hosannas to my sun I'll raise, 

Break forth my heart in joy and praise, 

Break forth in happy song ! 
Lord. I am all too weak to sing, 
I only stammer oat, my King, 

Thanks that to Thee belong. 



^ 



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252 GRANDFATHERS PET. 



^ 



Wake up my heart, 
All fear, all smart, 
Thy Saviour's touch can heal. 
Lord Christ, to Thee 
All glory be, 
Who art the same throughout eternity ! 



GRANDFATHER'S PET. 

THIS is the room where she slept, 
Only a year ago — 
Quiet, and carefully swept. 
Blinds and curtains like snow. 
There, by the bed in the dusty gloom. 

She would kneel with her tiny clasped hands 
and pray ! 
Here is tlie little white rose of a room. 
With the fragrance fled away 1 

Nelly, grandfather's pet. 

With her wase little face — 
I seem to hear her yet 
Singing about the place ; 
But the crowds roll on, and the streets are drear, 
And the world seems hard with a bitter doom, 
And Nelly is singing elsewhere — and here 
Is the little white rose of a room. 

V ^ 



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GRANDFATHERS PET. 253 



Why, if she stood just there, 

As she used to do, 
With her long light yellow hair, 
And her eyes of blue — 
If she stood, I say, at the edge of the bed. 
And ran to my side with a living touch. 
Though I know she is quiet and buried and dead, 
I should not wonder much ; 

For she was so young, you know — 

Only seven years old, 
And she loved me, loved me so, 
Though I was gray and old ; 
And her face was so wise, and so sweet to see, 

And it still looked living, w^hen she lay dead, 
As she used to plead for mother and me 
By the side of that very bed ! 

I wonder, now, if she 

Knows I am standing here, 
Feeling, wherever she be. 
We hold the place so dear ? 
It cannot be that she sleeps too sound. 

Still in her little night-gown dressed, 
Kot to hear my footsteps sound 

In the room where she used to rest. 

^ r$r 



^ — ^ 

254 TBUST. 

I have felt hard fortune's stings, 

And battled in doubt and strife, 
And never thought much of things 
Beyond this human life ; 
But I cannot think that my darling died 

Like great, strong men, with their prayers un- 
true — 
Nay, rather she sits at God's own side. 
And sings as she used to do ! 



TI? US T. 

I CANNOT see with my short human sight, 
Why God should lead this way or that for me ; 
I only know He saith, " Child, follow me ;" 
But I can (rust. 

I know not why my path should be at times 
So straightly hedged, so strangely barred before ; 
I only know God could keep wide the door ; 
But [ can trust. 

1 find no answer, often, when beset 
With questions fierce and subtle on my way, 
And often have but strength to faintly pray ; 
But T can trust. 



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Htl 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 




I often wonder, as with, trembling hand 
I cast the seed along the furrowed ground, 
If ripened fruit for God will there be found ; 
But I can trust. 

I cannot know why suddenly the storm 
Should rage so fiercely round me in its wrath ; 
But this I know, God watches all my path ; 
And I can trust. 

I may not draw aside the mystic veil 
That hides the unknown future from my sight ; 
Nor know if for me waits the dark or light ; 
But I can trust. 

I have no power to look across the tide, 
To know, while here, the land beyond the river ; 
But this I know, I shall be God's forever ! 
So I can trust. 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 

JERUSALEM the Golden, 
I languish for one gleam 
Of all thy glory folden 
In distance, and in dream ! 
21* 



n-y 




^ 



256 J^^ US ALE M THE G OLDEN. 



Mj thoughts like palms in exile, 
Climb up to look and pray 

For a glimpse of that dear country 
That lies so far away. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

Methinks each flower that blows, 
And every bird a singing, 

Of the same secret knows ! 
I know not what the flowers 

Can feel, or singers see, 
But all these summer raptures 

Are prophecies of thee. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

When sun-set's in the west, 
It seems the gate of glory. 

Thou city of the blest ! 
And midnight's starry torches, 

Through intermediate gloom, 
Are waving with their welcome, 

To thy eternal home. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

Where loftily they sing. 
O'er pain and sorrows olden 

Forever triumphing I 



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4^ 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN, 




257 



Lowly may be thy portal 
And dark may be the door, 

The mansion is immortal ! — 
God's palace for His poor. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

There all oar birds that flew,— 
Our flowers but half unfolden, 

Our pearls that turn'd to dew, — 
And all the glad life music 

Now heard no longer here. 
Shall come again to greet us, 

As we are drawing near. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

I toil on day by day ; 
Heart-sore each night with longing, 

I stretch my hands and pray 
That midst thy leaves of healing 

My soul may find her nest, 
Where the wicked cease from troubling, 

The weary are at rest. 



K 



22* 



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4- 



258 AFTER TEE BATTLE. 



AFTER THE BATTLE. 

MY wound is deep, I fain would sleep ; O 
I stretcli my hands to Thee ! [Lord, 

Do Thou according to Thy faithful word, 
And set Thy servant free ! 

Sore hath the battle been, but Yictoiy 

Crowned me as evening fell ; 
Now heart and flesh are failing, let me see 

The land where I would dwell. 

The battle-field is cold and silent now, 

Its thunders sunk to rest ; 
And I can feel the touch upon my brow 

Of low winds from the West ; 

The clouds of sleep, the last and longest sleep, 

Are heavy on mine eyes ; 
They cannot watch, dear Lord, they cannot weep 

Beneath Thy dark'ning skies. 

What time the angel, Victory, came down 

To bid my conflict cease. 
And crowned my tired soul with the shining 

Of Righteousness and Peace, [crown 

^ ■ ^ 



^ — ^ 



AFTER TEE BATTLE. 259 



That instant broke the sound as of a knell 

On the faint evening's breath ; 
And on my parched mouth, like the dew there 

The soft sweet kiss of Death ; [fell 

For Victory and Death v/alk hand in hand 

Down all the battle-field — 
One ruddy as the dawn, the other grand, 

But pale behind his shield ; 

And whom God loves, to whom is victory 

On such a field as this, 
Receive the radiant angel's crown, and see 

The pale cold angel's kiss ; 

That kiss has made my spirit faint and weak ; 

Lord, take me to Thy breast ; 
Oh, fold me closely, where the weariest seek 

And find Eternal Rest ! 

Christ, who has been my perfect sun by day. 

Will be my star by night ; 
On my deep rest the Lord shall shine alway, 

An everlasting Light. 

Dimly I see Him, through the clouds that roll 

Along the darkening West : 
O Lord, my Star, by Thy sweet light my soul 

Doth enter into Rest. 

^ ■ ^ 



-* ■ ^ 






260 ^^^ CLOUD vision: 



THE CLOUD VISION. 

IN the chill December weather, 
When the earth all barren lies ; 
When the dead leaves drift together, 
And the. feathery snow-fiake flies : 
When tliu8 ends the Spring-time sowing, 
Summer's brightness, beaiit}% ^i«ht, 
xYutumn, too, its fruits bestowing ; 
Then how drear the grave's dark night ! 

Such the thought, when to\\ard (iod's acre, 
'Mid broad fields and woodlands found, 
We went forth in midst of winter, 
There to make in frozen ground. 
And where all was bare and leafless. 
Resting place for baby's head ; 
Which so oft when tired and restless, 
We had laid on downy bed. 

Rough winds blew the falling snow-flakes ; 
Clouds dropped low like funeral pall, 
O'er the grave where we with heart-ache 
Asked, " Of life, can this be all ?"— 
And took up our baby darling. 
There to lay him, side by side, 
With his sister, softly sleeping ; 
Who, ere he was born, had died. 



^ 



THE CLOUD VISION. 261 

Scarcely was the sad rite ended,* 
And our little one at rest ; 
When beneath the clouds, now lifted, 
Shone the sun from out the West ; 
Filling earth and sky with beauty ; 
Painting clouds with gorgeous hue ; 
Opening up the path of glory ; 
Bringing gates of pearl to view. 

Slowly changed the sunset splendor, 

As the evening shades drew nigh, 

Into light of clearest amber, 

All along the western sky ; 

When two clouds, of scarce a hand-breadth, 

Just above the sun were seen, 

All aglow with hght that answered 

To its beams of golden sheen. 

There they stood, as might God's angels, 
Ling'ring on the heavenly heights, 
When come back from glad evangels 
Taking note of their long flights : 
Then, as if one thought possessing, 
Nearer to each other drew ; 
And, as though in fond caressing. 
Vanished quickly out of view. 



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^-^ 262 MEBCT BEFORE SACRIFICE. ^ 

'T was as thowgh our baby children, 
Stood transfigured to our sight : 
One, come forth from gate of Heaven, 
And from out its mansions bright ; 
Welcome bringing to the other, 
Hast'ning from the earth away : — 
Sister welcoming the brother, 
To the realms of endless day. 

Was it not a heavenly vision, 

"Which our Lord in pity sent ? 

Was not this its kindly mission — 

This His merciful intent, 

Our grieved hearts to keep from murmur, 

O'er this second bitter cup ; 

Which that day in bleak December, 

To our lips, we lifted up ? 



MERCY BEFORE SACRIFICE. 
" Come unto me and I will give you rest." 

COME to the clear deep river, 
Come where the pastures call ; 
Give to the great good Griver 
The trust that is thy all. 

V- ^ 



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M.WECT BEFORE JSA ORIFICE. 263 



From want eternal fleeing, 
Come to an endless store ; 

Bring thy wbole famished being, 
For He wants nothing more. 

If thoughts of thine appall thee, 

Oh, lean on His and live ! 
To sacrifice they call thee, 

While He is here to give. 
Accept thy Father's measure ' 

Of need that He can see. 
The heart to do His pleasure 

Is in His loye for thee. 

He will not now refuse thee, 

"Weak hand and vision dim ; 
For something He will use thee, 

But first thou wantest Him. 
The spirit worn with straying, 

Will find His judgment best : 
Oh, hear what He is saying, 

And yield thyself to rest. 

For one transporting minute 
The beckoning word obey : 

There is a power within it 
To bear thee on thy way. 



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264 " ^^ MIGHT HA VE BEEN. " 



That voice of mercy speaking, 
Is God the Saviour's might, 

And all thy heart is seeking 
Lies safely in its light. 



"/r MIGHT HAVE BEEN." 

LED by kindlier hand than ours, 
We journey through this earthly scene, 
And should not, in our weary hours, 
Turn to regret what might have been. 

And yet these hearts, when torn by pain, 
Or wrung by disappointment keen, 
Will seek relief from present cares 
In thoughts of joys that might have been. 

But let us still these wishes vain ; 
We know not that of which we dream. 
Our lives might have been sadder yet ; 
God only knows what might have been. 

Forgive us, Lord, our little faith ; 

And help us all, from morn till e'en, 

Still to believe that lot the best 

Which is— not that which might have been^ 



4 



A VERY FRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE. 265 



And grant we may so j^ass the days 
The cradle and the grave between, 
That death's dark hour not darker be 
For thoughts of what life might have been. 



A VERY PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE 

TRUST in the Lord ! yea, trust in Him ; 
Renew thy strength again ; 
For He, from whom thy faith was bom, 
That faith will still sustain. 

Commit thy way to Him, to whom 

Thou dost commit thy soul ; 
He sees the path by thee unseen : 

On Him thy burden roll. 

Wait thou on Him ; His time is best 

His wisdom shall declare : 
Wait thou in patient hope, and trace 

A Father's tender care. 

Rest upon Him, on Him, thy Lord, 

Till thou canst see His face ; 
Folded within each purpose lie 

Deep mysteries of grace. I 

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4 4^ 

266 ^ VEBY FJRESENT HELP IN TEOUBLB, 



He nourishes the comfortless ; 

He sends thee gloomy days, 
To train thy soul for nobler flight, 

And give thee themes for praise. 

He sends the blast ; He bids the storm 

Sweep o'er His richest land, 
To prove the trees of righteousness 

Are planted by His hand. 

He lets the tear-mist float above 

The valley's fairest spot ; 
And the budding grass is greenest where 

Our earthly joys are not. 

He sends His s]3rings among the hills, 

When other streams decline ; 
And where the flowery gourd hath drooped, 

He trains His fruitful vine. 

Whoso is wise, and all His works 

With watchful care discern. 
The loving kindness of the Lord 

They, even they, shall learn. 



^ 



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4 — 4t 



A LITTLE WHILE. 267 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

A LITTLE while of mingled joy and sorrow, 
A few more years to wander thus below ; 
To wait the dawning of that golden morrow, 
AVhen morn shall break above our night of woe. 

A few more thorns about our pathway growing, 
Ere yet our hands may cull the heavenly. flow- 
ers ; 

The morning comes, but, first, the tearful sowing, 
Ere we repose these weary souls ot ours. 

A few more hours of weariness and sighing. 
Of mourning o'er the power of inner sin ; 

A little while of daily crucifying, 

To this vain world, the evil heart within. 

A little longer in this vale of weeping. 
Of yearning for the sinless home above ; 

A little while our marriage garments keeping 
Unspotted, by the power of Him we love. 

A little while for winning souls to Jesus, 
Ere we behold His beauty face to face ; 

A little while for healing soul diseases. 
By telling others of a Saviour's grace. 

■qn ^ 



^ -^ 

'""^ 268 MIGHTY TO HAVE. 

A little while to spread tlie joyful story 

Of Him who made our guilt and curse His own ; 

A little while ere we behold the glory, 

To gain fresh jewels for our heavenly crown. 

A little while, then we shall dwell for ever 
Within our bright, our everlasting home, 

Where time, or space, or death can no more sever 
Our grief-wrung hearts, and pain can never 
come. 

'Tis but a little while ; the way is dreary. 
The night is dark, but we are nearing land ; 

O for the rest of heaven, for we are weary, 
And long to mingle with the deathless band I 



MIGHTY TO SAVE. 
Isaiah Ixiii. 1. 

THE King of Glory standeth, 
Beside that heart of sin. 
His mighty voice commandeth, 

The raging waves within. 
The floods of deepest anguish, 

Roll backward at His will, 
As o'er the storm ariseth 

His mandate, " Peace be still." 



"♦^ 



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MIGHTY TO SAVE. 269 



At times with sudden glory, 

He speaks and all is done ; 
Without one stroke of battle 

The victory is wod. 
While we with jdy beholding, 

Can scarce believe it true. 
That e'en our Kingly Jesus, 

Can form such hearts anew. 



He comes in blood-stained garments ; 

Upon His brow a crown ; 
The gates of brass fly open, 

The iron bands drop down. 
From off the fettered captive 

The chains of Satan fall, 
While angels shout triumphant 

That Christ is Lord of all. 



But sometimes in the stillness 

He gently draweth near, 
And whispers words of welcome 

Into the sinner's ear ; 
With anxious heart awaiteth 

The answer to his cry, 
The oft-repeated question, 

O wherefore wilt thou die ? 




4" ~% 

270 MTOETY TO SAVE. 

Or in the gathering darkness, 

With wounded feet and sore, 
The suppliant Saviour standeth, 

And knocketh at the door. 
The bleak winds howl around Him, 

The unbelief and sin ; 
Yet Jesus waits, entreating 

That He may enter in. 

He whispers through the portal, 

He woos us with His love ; 
He calls us to the kingdom, 

That waits for us above. 
He speaks of all the gladness. 

His yearning heart would give ; 
Tells of the flowing fountain, 

And bids us wash and live. 

O Christ, Thy love is mighty ! 

Long sufi'ering is Thy grace ! 
And glorious is the splendor 

That beameth from Thy face ! 
Our hearts upleap in gladness, 

When we behold that love ; 
As we go singing onward, 

To dwell with Thee above I 



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TENEO ET TENEOR. 271 






''TENEO ET TENEOR." 

u ~V HOLD and I am held !" What hold I to ; 
I And what holds me ? I hold thy cross, 
thou Word 
Of the Eternal ! Where the envious Jew 

Pierced Thee, my fingers press nor can be 
stirred, 
Though hell oppose ! By Thee my soul is held ! 

By all Gethsemane's agony and grief 
United, joined, and naught can break the weld 
But my own want of faith — my unbeUef ! 

O God of Calvary ! O Lord divine ! 

Hold me and I am held ! I cannot slide 

When pressing closely to thy bleeding side, 
Though men and devils 'gainst my soul combine I 

Nor shall T wander far, if in the vail 
Of Jesus' flesh, my anchor has been cast ; 

But I shall hear the welcome plaudit — " Hail 
Beloved, enter into rest !" at last. 



^ 




272 BETEANT. 



^ 



BE T H A N V. 

SIX days before the Passover, 
The blessed Saviour came 
To Bethany, where He remained. 

Until His hour of shame ; 
His last abode was in the home 

Of Lazarus, His friend ; 
Those He had loved while in the world, 
He loved unto the end. 

The shadow of the Passion lay 

Brooding on all around, 
Though what it meant they could not know, 

Its depth was too profound 
For mortal eye to search it out, — 

Though woman's * love might see 
Further than most into the shade 

Of that great Mystery. 

His sacred Heart in its lone depths 

Was heaving at the thought. 
That human nature's perfectness 

Through suifering must be wrought. 

* St. Matt. xxvi. 12. 



_^ ^+_ 

BETHANY. 273 

And yet He set His face to go 

With firm endurance on, 
And r<)se above the nature weak 

•That clothed the Eternal Son : 

And He did then for evermore 

That form of trial bless, 
If only sinking hearts to Him 

Will turn in their distress ; 
One ray of glory in the Crown 

That on His brows is set. 
Is drawn from those deep pangs of Fear 

He never can forget. 

Not for Himself alone He fears, — 

Til at all-foreseeing Eye 
Distinguishes each single throb, 

Of human agony ; 
He wept o'er every closing grave, 

Unto the end of time ; 
His soul drank in the rising swell 

Of sorrow's awful chime. 

He took full measure of the grief 

Of every separate saint, 
As one by one, each on his cross 

Must tremble and grow faint ; 

^^1 4^ 




% 



BETHANY. 



He knew, thougli He had given them rest, 
They first must find sore strife, 

Must seek e'en through the gates of Deatli 
His promised gift of Life. 

Yet even then His joy arose 

For ever to increase, 
In knowing that this suffering host 

"Would find in Him their peace ; 
The travail of His soul might bow 

That sacred Head to earth, 
Yet He is satisfied to see 

The new Creation's birth. 

He feels the presence of meek love 

Already at His side, 
The gentle ones who cling to Him, 

And breast the world's strong tide ; 
He sees the eyes that to Him turn. 

The hands that seek His own, 
Those who in sharpest discipline, 

Trust Him, and Him alone. 

Apostles, Martyrs, the long line 

Of royal, warrior soul. 
Flash on Him their triumphant smiles 

From where the Future rolls : 




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WAITING. 275 

The white-robed multitude, Tvhom none 

Can number or declare, 
Waft Him their floating voice of praise 

Already on the air. 

Lord ! since our griefs on Thee were laid, 

And Thou hast felt their sting. 
Help us in holiest calm to take 

Our turn of suffering : 
Thou didst look on unto Thy Joy, 

And so by grace will we, 
J3ut we would clasp Thy Cross, and feel 

We owe that Joy to Thee. 



h 



WA I TING. 

LORD of my nights and days 1 
Let my desire be, 
Not to be rid of Earth, 
But nearer Thee — 

If I may nearer draw 

Thro' lengthened grief and pain; 
Then to continue here. 

Must be my gain ; 

Till I have strengthened been. 
To take a wider grasp, 



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4 




276 WAITING. 



Of that Eternal Life, 
I long to clasp ; 



Till I am so refined, 

I can the glory bear, 
Of that excess of joy, 

I thirst to share ; 

Till 1 am meet to gaze 

On uncreated Light, 
Transformed, and perfected. 

By that new sight. 

{Sorrow's long lesson o'er. 

Death's discipline gone tlirough, 
Thou wilt unfold to me 

What Jov can do. 



From Earth to Heaven they flee 
At last ! 1 hine hour will come, 
To send for me. 

Reveal the Mighty Love, 

That binds Thy Heart to mine : 
Thy Counsels and my will 

Should intertwine. 



-^x- ^ 



f ^ ^ 

ALPHA AND OMEGA. 277 1 



Lord of my heart and hopes ! 

Let my desire be, 
Not to be rid of Earth, 

But one with Thee. 



ALPHA AND OMEGA. 

ALPHA, and Omega ! 
Be Thou my First and Last: 
The Source whence I descend, 
The Joy to which I tend. 
When Earth is past. 

Open my waking eyes, 

And fill them with Thy Light ; 

For Thee each plan begun, 

In Thee each duty done, 
Close them at night. 

Enfold me when asleej^. 

Let soft dews from above 
Refresh the long day's toil, 
Wash off the worldly soil, 

And strengthen Love. 

Men speak of Four Last Things ; 
Death, and the Judgment Hall, 
24 



^ ^ 



278 ALPHA AND OMEGA. 



4^ 



^ 



Hell, and the Heaven so fair : 
But Thou, O Lord ! art there, 
Beyond them all. 

There is no " last" with Thee, 

But only our last Sins, 
Last Sorrows, and last Tears, 
Last Sicknesses, last Fears, 

Then Joy begins : 

Joy without bound or end. 

Concentric circles bright, 
Spreading from round Thy Throne, 
Flowing from Thee alone j 

Love ! O Light ! 

Lay Thy right Hand of Power 

In blessing on my brow ; 
Heaven's Keys are in Thy Hand, 
Its Portals open stand, 

1 fear not now. 

Lead Thou me gently in, 

Thou who through Death hast past ; 
Then bring me to Thy Throne, 
For Thee I seeii alone, 

My First and Last. 



4h 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



k. 



All is Known to Thee 20 

ALittle While 45 

Alone, yet not Alone 51 

Anchor within the Veil, The 109 

All is Light 123 

Asleep on Guard 182 

All in Christ 163 

Abide with Us 170 

After the Battle. 258 

ALittle While 2(57 

Alpha and Omega . . 277 

A Very Present Help in Trouble 265 

Border Lands, The 18 

Bridegroom's Dove, The 35 

Bridges 126 

Burial of Moses, The - 138 

Better Life, The 1'72 

Bringing our Sheaves with Us 219 

Beautiful Hands 244 

Bethany 273 

Changed Cross, The 5 

Call, The. . 82 

Cross and Crovni, The 86 

Coming 116 

Christian and his Echo, The 144 

Comfort by the Way 147 

(279) 



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^^u 



t 



280 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



Cbristmfis Hymn, A . 15-? 

Commuiiion with God 158 

Cross, The 185 

Crown, The 186 

Come ! 224 

Cross-Bearer, The 238 

Cloud Vision, The 260 

Delectable Mountains, The 107 

Distractions in Prayer 113 

Drawing Water 175 

Evening Prayer 62 

Even Me 87 

Eleventh Hour, The 217 

Euthanasy 215 

Faith's Repose 106 

Father, take my Hand , 128 

For the New Year 198 

Footsteps ou the Other Side w 210 

Funeral Hymn 212 

Finished Work 241 

Gone Home , 211 

• God our Strength 15 

God, my Exceeding Joy 39 

God's Support and Guidance 41 

God's Anvil 85 

Grief was sent for thy Good 96 

God's Ways Ill 

Gracious Answer, The — 130 

Grandfather's Pet 252 

HolyTears 1? 

■ill ^ 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 281 



Hinder me Not 47 

Heaven 58 

Hour of Prayer, The 134 

HymnofTrust 137 

Himself hath clone it 165 

He is my Shepherd 283 

lAm 43 

IClingtoThce 50 

In Heaven 72 

It is I ; Be not afraid , 75 

ItisWell 183 

Into His Hands 226 

In the Field 248 

" It Might Have Been " 264 

Jerusalem the Golden 255 

Lost Treasures 25 

Leave Me not Now 105 

Longings '. , 124 

Light in Darkness 157 

Living Waters 167 

Long Good-Night, The 208 

Less and More — 146 

Meeting Place, The 9 

My Times are in Thy Hand 16 

Mary's Choice 32 

My Lambs 78 

My Guest 114 

Ministry 181 

Memories 191 

Meeting Place, The 221 

" Mortally Wounded " ... 228 ] 

24* I 

^ rb 



-_p L|__ 



282 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



MyShips 246 

Mercy before Sacrifice 262 

Mighty to Save 268 

' Nearer Home" 33 

Near Jesus 66 

Nature and Faith , 76 

Now 141 

Need of Jesus, The 142 

Oh ! for the Happy Days Gone By 22 

One by One 81 

Oh ! to be Eeady 34 

Oh ! my Saviour Crucified 89 

Onward 95 

OLord! ThouKnowest 179 

Pilgrim, the 11 

Pilgrim's Wants, The 56 

Pilgrim of Earth 69 

Peace of God, The 89 

Peace 91 

Prayer for Strength 93 

Pray for whom thou Lovest 174 

Perpetuity of Joy in Heaven 200 

Pathways of the Holy Land 196 

Prayer out of the Depths 187 

" Post Tenebras Lux " 242 

Quiet Mind, A 121 

Eeturn thee to thy Eest 65 

Eetrospoct 148 

Eevived 250 



^ 



^ 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



Sunday ! 27 

School of Suflering 52 

Supplication fl 

Ir^cenes on Jordan's Strand 97 

Sufferer Cheered, The 161 

Salome 190 

There is Light Beyond 99 

Thy Will be Done 1-35 

Thy Will be Done 102 

They Shall be Mine .. 103 

Tempest-Tossed, The 143 

Time for Prayer, The 156 

True Dream, A 177 

Through the Flood on Foot, , . 202 

" This I did for Thee— What doest Thou for me ?" 232 

Trust 254 

'■ Teneo et Teneor " 271 

Voice from Heaven, A -. 59 

Verdict of Death, The 150 

Wandering Heart, The 63 

Wholly Resigned 15 

Who is my Brother ? 68 

What is this that He Saith ? 71 

Widow of Nain, The 194 

Way. the Truth, and the Life, The 154 

We are the Lord's 214 

With Faith and Prayer 229 

Walking in White 236 

Waiting 2T5 



^ ^ np- 



J 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



After long clays of storms and showers 27 

Alas ! for the wildly wandering heart 63 

Amid the shadows and the fears 109 

All in weakness, all in sorrow 18T 

Another year, another year 198 

Ah, years ago !— no matter where a. d. r. e. 246 

A little while of mingled joy and sorrow 267 

Alpha and Omega 1 277 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping . . .hoeatius bonae. 45 

Beyond the stars that shine in golden glory a. shipton. 99 

By Nebo's lonely mountain mrs. c. f. Alexander. 138 

Breezes of spring, all earth to life awaking . 157 

Break out my heart in joyous strain 250 

Christ leads us through no darker rooms . . .rich. Baxter. 15 

Come forth ! come on with solemn song 212 

Commit thou all thy griefs 226 

Come to the clear deep river A. l. waring. 2G2 

Early my spirit turned jas. w. alexandeir. 89 

Father, I know that all my life anna l. waring. 16 

Father, into Thy loving hands 18 

Forsake me not, my God Trans, jas. w. Alexander. 41 

Father of mercy ! at the close of day 62 

Father 1 before Thy footstool kneeling 93 

Four little words, no more 101 

(284) 



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INBEX TO FIRST LINES. 285 



Father, beneath Thy sheltering wing 106 

Faint, and worn, and aged 217 

Finished work I For Jesns dieth p. A. l. 241 

Fighting the Battle of Life 1 248 

Gone home ! gone home 1 She lingers here no longer 211 

Hinder me not 1 the path is long and weary 47 

How few who from their youthfal day Ill 

How doth Death speak of our beloved mks. chakles. 150 

Himselfbathdoneitall 165 

Here brief is the sighing 2(i0 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep 233 

It was a time of sadness, and my heart 5 

I want that adorning divine 56 

I shine in the light of God 59 

I want to live near Jesus 66 

I loved them so 78 

I see them far away 107 

I cannot pray ; yet. Lord, Thou knowest.i'EED. w. fabek. 113 

I have a wonderful Guest 114 

It may be in the evening mrs. b. kacandeew. 116 

I have a treasure which I prize 121 

I have a bridge within my heart a. d. F. R. 126 

I need Thee, precious Jesus 142 

I journey through a desert drear and wild 147 

In human form enthroned 153 

In Thee, my heart, O Jesus ! finds repose 163 

In some wild Eastern legend the story has been told 167 

I had vfa-ank with lips ungated 175 

I dreamt we danced in careless glee 177 

I journey forth rejoicing 208 

I lay me down to sleep 228 

I gave my life for thee 232 

hy ^ 



4^ ' ^ 



286 INDJEX TO FIRST LINES. 



I cannot see with my short human sight 254 

It is His way, and so it must be right 242 

In the chill December weather eldbidge mix. 260 

" I hold and I am held 1" What hold I to ? . . . s. T. clark 2T1 

Jesus, engrave it on my heart 82 

Jerusalem the Golden 255 

Let us be patient, God has taken from us 25 

Lord, hear my prayer 61 

Lord, I hear of showers of blessing 87 

Life's mystery— deep, restless as the ocean 91 

Leave me not now while still the shade is creeping 105 

Lord, I am come along with Thee 158 

Lord of my nights and days ! 275 

Led by kindlier hand than ours g. zabeiskib gray. 204 

Man, in his weakness, needs a stronger stay 15 

My God, whose gracious pity I may claim 20 

My Dove I The Bridegroom speaks 35 

Must I my brother keep 63 

Must Jesus bear the cross alone 86 

My God, is any hour so sweet 134 

My wound is deep, I fain would sleep ; O Lord 

B. MACANDREAV. 258 

Oh ! for the happy days gone by fred. w. faber. 22 

One by one the sands are flowing 81 

One sweetly solemn thought phcebe caky. 33 

Oh ! to be ready when death shall come • ' 34 

O holy Saviour 1 Friend unseen 50 

Oh ! heaven is nearer than mortals think 58 

O Loving One I O Bounteous One ! 148 

Oh 1 for the peace which floweth as a river 71 

O my Saviour crucified 89 



r 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 287 



O shame ! we'ie sometimes fain to say 132 

O Love Divine ! tliat stooped to share 13'7 

Oh, word, of words the sweetest I . . . mart a. rankin. 224 

O Lord, my God, 'tis early dawn s. j. curriek. 236 

Pilgrim of earth, who art journeying to heaven 69 

Pain's fiirnace-heat within me quivers 85 

Return, return thee to thy only rest 65 

Pdse ! for the day is passing 141 

Still onward through this land of foes 11 

Saviour, heneath Thy yoke 52 

Silence filled the courts of heaven 72 

Some there are who seem exempted 96 

Say ! shall I take the thorn away ? 161 

Since service is the highest lot 181 

So they said who saw the wonders 1 83 

She knew not what for them she sought mrs. charles. 190 

Sitting in my humhle doorway 210 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands ellen h. m. gates. 244 

Six days before the Passover 272 

Thou bidd'st us call 43 

Tossed with rough winds and faint with fear 75 

The night was night ; behold, the shade was deeper 82 

Traveller, faint not on the road 95 

There came a little child with sunny hair 97 

They shall be mine 103 

The way is dark, my Father henry n. coee. 128 

The way is dark, my child henrt n. cobb. 130 

True faith, producing love to God and man 144 

Two Prayers, dear Lord, in One a, n. p. r. 148 

Thou art the Way 3Irs. charles. ir}4 

The tender light is fading where iTO 



lllj« 



2S8 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



Thou knowe:4, Lord, tlie weariness and sorrow 179 

The strongest light casts deepest shade . . .mrs. chaeles. 185 
Thoa Shalt be crowned, O mother blest ! .. .mks. charles. 186 

Thy miracles are no state splendors mrs. charles. 194 

The pathways of Thy land are little chancjed.MRs. charles. 195 

The sun had sunk in the west mrs. b. macandrsw. 202 

The time for toil is past 219 

The daylight has faded over the sea.. mrs. e. macandrew. 2H 

This is the room where she slept 259 

The King of Glory staudeth 2()S 

Trust in the Lord ! yea, trust in Him 265 

V/e are the Lord's. His, earthly life and spirit 214 

Wc need no change of sphere 215 

Where the faded flower shall freshen horatius bonar. 9 

When no kind earthly friend is near Til 

We wept— 'twas Nature wept, but Faith 76 

We ask for peace, O Lord 1 89 

What though storm-clouds gather round me 123 

When shall I be at rest ? 124 

V7e see not, know not, all our way john g. whittier. 1^5 

When is the time for prayer ? 156 

When we reach a quiet dwelling 172 

When fall the evening shadows long and deep 191 

With faith and prayer henry n. cobb. 229 

When I set out to follow Jesus anna warner. 238 

Yes, thou may'st weep 18 

Yes, pray for w horn thou love;3t 174 



-J^n ^ 



TUE 



Shadow of the Rock^ 

SMn 
OTUEIi RELIGIOUS POEMS. 



f 



4f 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S66, bj' 

ANSON D. F. EANDOPLII, 

Tu the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Sonthom 

District of Nev/ York. 



ROBERT RUTTER, 

BINDER, 
SO N. WILLIAM ST., N. T. 



^ ^ -4- 



4^ 



The Poems contained in this Volume have 
been selected from manv somves, and, so far as 
known, the names of the authors appended. The 
publisher has designed it as a companion-book to 
The Changed Cross, which hai proved so acccpt- 
ihie tc n large class of Christian readers. 



k^ ^ 4^ 



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CONSIDER. 

Consider 
The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief 

We arc as they ; 

Like them wc fade away, 
As doth a leaf. 

Consider 
The sparrows of the air of small r.ccouiit ; 

Our God doth view 
Whether they fall or mount — 

He guards us too. 

Consider 
The lilies that do neither spin nor toil, 

Yet are most fair ; 

What profits all this care 
And all this toil ? 

Consider 
The birds that have no barn nor harvest weeb 

God gives them food ; 
Much more our Father seeks 
To do us good. 

RoSiETTI, 



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f 



4 



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^ 



^^- ^4, 

THE 

SHADOW OF THE ROCK 



AND OTHER. POEMS. 



THE SHADOW OF THE J20CK. 

THE Shadow of the Rock ! 
Stay, Pilgrim, stay I 
Night treads upon the heels of day ; 
There is no other resting-place this way. 
The Rock is near, 
The well is clear — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock t 

The Shadow of the Rock I 
The desert wide 
Lies round thee like a trackless tide, 
In waves of sand forlornly multipliciL 
The sun is gone, 
Thou art alone — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock 1 

The Shadow of the Rock I 
All come alone ; 

"qn — "T^ 



4" 



TUB S/IADO rv OF TEE EOCK. 



AJl, ever since tbe sun liath shone, 

Who trayeled by this road have come alono. 

Be of good cheer — 

A home is here — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Night veils the land ; 
IIow the palms whisper as they eland I 
How the well tinkles faintly through the sand ! 
Cool water take 
Thy thirst to slake — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of tlic Rock ! 
Abide ! Abide ! 
This Rock moves ever at thy side. 
Pausing to welcome thee at eTCRtide. 
Ages are laid 
Beneath its shade — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Always at hand, 
Unseen it cools the noon-tidc land, 
And quells the fire that flickers in the sand- 
It comes in sight 
Only at night — 
Rest in the Shadow of tbc Rock ! 

h^ ^ 



THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK. 



9 



The Shadow of the Rock I 
'Mid skies storm-riven 
It gathers shadows out of heaven, 
And liolds them o'er us all night cool and ctcd. 
Through the charmed air 
Dew falls not there — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
To angels' eyes 
Tliis Rock its shadow multiplies, 
And at this hour in countless places lies. 
One Rock, one shade, 
O'er thousands laid — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
To weary feet, 
ITiat have been diligent and fleet. 
The sleep is deeper and the shade more sweet 
O weary, rest ! 
Thou art sore pressed — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Thy bed is made ; 
Crowds of tired souls like thine arc laid 
This night beno.ith the self-same nlacid shada 

^ ——Jy 



I—' 10 NIGHT SONG, 



% 



They who rest here 
Wake with Heaven near — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock . 

The Shadow of the Rock ' 
Pilgrim I sleej) sound ; 
In night's swift hours with silent bound, 
The Rock will put thee over leagues of ground, 
Gaining more way 
By night than day — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock I 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
One day of pain, 
Thou scarce wilt hope the Rock to gain. 
Yet there wilt sleep thy last sleep on the plain 
And only wake 
In Heaven's daybreak — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

FADER, 



NIGHT SONG. 



ff 



EART, be still ! 
In the darkness of thy woe, 
Bow thee silently and low ; 
Comes to thee whate'er God will ;— 
Be thou still I 



^ 



^ 



NIGHT SGNG. 

Be thou still I 
Vainly all thy words are spoken ; 
Till the Word of God hath broken 
Life's dark mysteries— good or ill-— 

Be thou still ! 



Sleep thou still I 
'Tis thy Father's work of grace, 
Wait thou yet before His face, 
He'll thy sure deliverance will ; 

Keep thou still I 

Lord my God I 
By thy grace, O may I be 
All-submission, silently, 
To the chastenings of thy rod ; 

Lord my God I 

Shepherd, King ! 
From thy fullness, grant to me 
Still, yet fearless faith in Thee, 
Till, from night the day shall sirring I 

Shepherd, King ! 

FROaiP THE OEKMAJS. 






I 



-~-i 12 UPWARD. '—I 



UPWARDS 

UPWARD, AvLere the stars are burning, 
Silent, silent in tlicir turning 
Round the never-changing pole ; 
Upward, where the sky is brightest, 
Upward, where the blue is lightest, 
Lift I now my longing soul ! 

Far above that arch of gladness, 
Far beyond those clouds of sadness, 

Are the many mansions fail' 1 
Far from pain, and sin, and folly. 
In that palace of the holy, 

I would find my mansion there ! 

Where the glory brightly dwelleth, 
Wliere the new song sweetly swelletli, 

And the discord never comes ; 
Where life's stream is ever laving^ 
And the palm is ever waving — 

That must be the home of homes \ 

Where the Lamb on high is seated, 
\\y ten thousand voices greeted. 
Lord of lords and King of kings? 

^ ^ -^f 



HE KNOWETII ALL. I3 



Son of man, they croTvn, they crown Him I 
Son of God, they own, they own Him X 
With His name the palace rings ! 

Blessing, honor, without measure, 
Heavenly riches, earthly treasure, 

Lay we at His blessed feet ! 
Poor the praise that now we render : 
Loud shall be our voices yonder, 

When before His Throne we meet I 

BONAB. 



HE KNOWETH ALL. 

THE twilight falls, the night is near, 
I fold my work away. 
And kneel to One who bends to hear 
The story of the day. 

The old, old story ; yet I kneel 

To tell it at Thy call ; 
And cares grow lighter as I feel 

That Jesus knows them all. 

Yes, all ! The morning and the night, 

The joy, the grief, the loss, 
The roughened path, the sunbeam bright. 

The hourly thorn and cross. 



^ 



14 no iij': WARDS. 

Thou knowest all — I lean my head, 

My weary eyelids close ; 
Content and glad awhile to tread 

This path, since Jesus knows I 

And He has loved me ! All my heart 
With answering love is stirred, 

And eveiy anguished j^ain and smart 
Finds healing in the Word. 

So here I lay me down to rest, 

As nightly shadows fall. 
And lean, confiding, on His breast, 

Who knows and pities all ! 



HOME WA R D S! 

DROPPING down the troubled river, 
To the tranquil, tranquil shore ; 
Dropping down the misty river, 
Time's willow-shaded river, 

To the spring-embosomed shore ; 
Where the sweet light shineth ever, 
And the sun goes down no more. 
O wondrous, wondrous shore 1 

Dropping down the winding river, 
To the wide and welcome sea : 

^ S- 



4^ ^ 

^ HOMEWAKDS. 15 L, 

Dropping down the narrow river, 
Man's weary, wayward river. 

To the blue and ample sea ; 
Where no tempest wrecketh ever. 

Where the sky is fair and free ; 

O joyous, joyous sea ! 

Dropping down the noisy river. 

To our peaceful, peaceful home ; 
Dropping down the turbid liver, 
Earth's bustling, crowded river. 

To our gentle, gentle home ; 
Where the rough roar riseth never, 

And the vcxings cannot come ; 

O loved and longed for home ! 

Dropping down the eddying river, 

With a Helmsman true and tried ; 
Dropping down the perilous river-- 
Mortality's dark river. 

With a sure and Heavenly Guide ; 
Even Him who, to deliver 

My soul from death, hath died ; 

O Helmsman, true and tried ! 

Dropping down the rapid river. 

To the dear and deathless land ; 
Dropping down the well-known river, 

Fiife's >i':\o]l"n 'ini^ nisliivo- river. 



^ 



r. 



.....J 

4p 



16 THE LOVING CUR 

To the resurrection-land ; 
Wlierc the living, live for ever, 

And the dead have joined the band ; 
O fau- and blessed land ! 



THE LO VING CUP. 

COME, diink ye, drink ye, all, of it, 
Pale children of a King ; 
No poison mingles in the draught, 

So, while ye suffer, sing. 
Tis Love's own Life hath won it us, 

Christ's lip hath pressed the brim, — 
Come, drink ye, drink ye, all, of it, 
In fellowship with Him ! 

O shun not thou the Loving Cup, 

Nor tremble at its hue ; 
There is no bitter in the bowl, 

But Jesus drank it, too. 
He counts thy tears, and knows thy pain, 

Yea, every woe is weighed ; 
And not a cross He bids thee bear. 

But once on Him was laid. 

Come, drink thou of the Loving Cup [ 

Thou wouldst not pass it by ? 
^Tis kept for every chosen one 
^. Of God'r; deir fMmilv : - 



■n 



THE SIN^'EKS FRIEND 



Nor, unbelieving, turn aside ; 

The Lord the cup bestows ; 
And O His face, above thee bent, 

With love and pity glows ! 

Those hands, once bleeding on the Cross, 

Are now outstretched to bless ; 
He draws thee closer to His heart 

For that draught's bitterness ; 
He hears thy faintly sobbing breathy 

He marks each quivering limb ; 
He drank a cup for thee alone — 

Child 1 drink it now with Him. 



Let earth bring forth her bitter herbs, 

Soon all their power shall cease ; 
Come tribulation if it will, 

With Christ's abiding Peace. 
I take the cup — the Loving Cup, 

Thrice blessed shall it be ; 
I would not miss one gift, O Lord, 

Thy Blood hath bought for me ! 

AKNA SniPTON. 



17 H 



IRE SINNERS FRIEND. 

OTHOU, the contrite sinner's Friend, 
Who lo\ing, lov'st them to the end, 
On this alone my hopes depend, 
That Thou wilt plead for me I 



Ep" 



18 T/lJr SJi\\YFB\S FRIEND. 



When, weary in the Cliristian race, 
Far-off appears my resting-place, 
And fainting, I mistrust Thy grace- 
Then. Saviour, i)lead for me I 

When I have en-'d and gone astray 
Afar from Thine and Wisdom's way, 
And see no glimmering guiding ray — • 
Still, Saviour, plead for me I 

When Satan, by my sins made bold, 
Strives from Thy cross to loose my hoLl, 
Then with Thy pitying arms enfold. 
And plead, oh, plead for me ! 

And when my dying hour draws near, 
Darkened with anguish, guilt, and fear, 
Then to my fainting sight appear. 
Pleading in Heaven for me ! 

When the full light of Heavenly day 
Reveals my sins in dread array, 
Say, Thou hast wash'd them all away ; 
OU, say, Thou plcad'st for me I 

CHARLOTTE ELLIOT 



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THE WA Y IS LONG, £.TC\ 19 



THE WAY IS LONG AND DREARY 

THE way is long and dreaiy, 
The ijath is bleak and bare , 
()iir feet are worn and weary, 

But we will not despair. 
More heavy was Thy burthen, 

More desolate Thy way ; 
O Lamb of God, who takest 
The sin of the world away, 
Have mercv on us ! 



The snov.'s lie thick around us, 

In the dark and gloomy night ; 
And the tempest wails above us, 

And the stars have hid their light 
But blacker was the darkness 

Round Calvary's Cross that da} 
O Lamb of God, that takest 

The sin of the world away, 
Have mercy on us ! 

Our hearts are faint with sorrow, 

Heavy and sad to bear ; 
For we dread the bitter morrow, 

But we will not despair. 



dj ij; 

"""^ 20 rnE DEATH OF A BELIE VEE. 

Tliou knowest all our anguish. 

And Thou wilt bid it cease. 
O Lamb of God ! who takest 

The sin of the world away, 
Give us Thy peace ! 

ADELAIDE A. I'SOCTER 



^ 



TUE DEATH OF A BELIEVER. 

rriHE Apostle slept ; a light shone in the prison 
X An angel touched his side ; 
" Arise," he said, and quickly he hath risen, 
His fettered aims untied. 

The watchers saw no light at midnight gleaming 

They heard no sound of feet ; 
The gates fly open, and the saint still clieaming, 

Stands free upon the street. 

So when the Christian's eyelid droops and closes 

In Nature's parting stnfc, 
A fiiendly angel stands where he reposes 

To wake him up to life. 

He gives a gentle blow, and so releases 

The spii-it from its clay ; 
From sin's temptations and fi-om life's distresses 

IT*» bids i+ come away. j 



P~ ■■~Y~~ 



J 



THE DEATH OE A ELLIEVER. 21 



%- 



It rises up, and fii'om its darksome mansion 

It takes its silent fliglit, 
And feels its freedom in the large expansion 

Of Heavenly air and light. 

Behind, it hears Time's iron gates close faintij ; 

It is now far from them, 
For it has reached the city of the saintly, 

The new Jcnisalcm ! 

A voice is heard on earth of kinsfolk weeping 

The loss of one they love ; 
But he is gone where the redeemed are keeping 

A festival above. 

The mourners throng the way, and fi'om the 
steeple 

The funeral -heir tolls slow; 
But on the golden streets the holy peojilc 

Are passing to and fro ; 

And saying, as they meet, " Rejoice ! another 

Long-waitcd-for is come ; 
The Saviour's heart is glad, u younger brother 

Hath leached the Father's home I" 

JAMES L BU11N8 



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I—' 22 EARTH AND HEAVES, 



EARTH AND HEAVEN. 

rFIIE roseate hues of early da'vni, 
X The brightness of the day ; 
The crimson of the sunset sky, 

How fast they fade away I 
Oh, for the pearly gates of Heaven 1 

Oh, for the golden floor I 
Oh, for the Sun of Righteousness, 

That setteth nevermore I 

The brightest hopes we cherish hcie, 

How fast they tire and faint ; 
How many a spot defiles the robe 

That wraps an earthly saint I 
Oh, for a heart that never sins ! 

Oh, for a soul wash'd white ! 
Oh, for a voice to praise our King, 

Nor weary, day nor night I 

Qere fliith is ours, and Heavenly hope, 

And grace to lead us higher ; 
But there are perfectness, and peace, 

Beyond oui* best desii'e. 
Oh, by Thy love, and anguish, Lord, 

And by Thy life laid down, 
Grant that we fall not from Thy graca, 

Noi' cast away our crown 1 



& — "^ 

■ " H il l Tr\i r-iTT-D T 4 -rrzr r-/n r> i/-c «••» 



UN DEE TAKE FOE ME. 23 



UNDERTAKE FOR ME! 

AS those tliat watcli for the d.'iy, 
. Through the restless night of pain, 
When the first faint streaks of gray 

Bring rest and ease again — 
As they turn their sleepless eyes 

The Eastern sky to see, 
Long hours before sunrise — 
So waiteth ray soul for Thee ! 

As those that watch for the day, 

Through the long, long night of grie^ 
When the soul can only pray 

That the day may bring relief, — 
When the eyes, with v/eepiug spent. 

No dawn of hope can see. 
But the heart keeps watch intent, — 

So waiteth my soul for Thee ! 

As those that watch for the day. 

Through that deepest night of all, 
When trem])ling, and sin have sway, 

And the shades of Thy absence fall ; 
As they search through clouds of fear 

The Morning Star to see. 
And the Light of Life appear — 

Sc waiteth mv soul for Thee ! 



^ 




4 



24 THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY, 



As those that watch for the day, 

And know that the day will rise, 
Though the wearj hours delay, 

As they pass under midnight skies ; 
Though the Sun of Righteousness 

Only Faith's eye can see, 
Because Thou hast promised to bless — 

Lord Jesus, I wait for Thee ! 



THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY, 

(10ULD webutknow 
1 The land that ends our dark, uncertain travel 
Where lie those happier hills and meadows low 
Ah ! if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil 
Aught of tha,t country could we surely know, 
Who would not go ? 

Might we but hear 
The hovering angels' high imagined chorus. 

Or catch, betimes, with wakeful eyes and clear, 
One radiant vista of the realm before us — 
With one rapt moment given to see and heai, 
Ah, who would fear ? 

Vfcre we quite sure 

To ^nd the peerless friend who left us lonely, 

Or there, l)y some celestial stream as pure, 

^ ^ 



^ 



THE axswi:e. 25 



To gaze in °ycs that here were lovelit only — 
Tliis wcaiy mortal coil, were we quite suic, 
"Who would endure ? 

Round Table 



THE ANSWER. 

ii II/'HO would not go " 

T V With buoyant steps, to gain that blessed 
portal. 
Which opens to the land we long to know ? 
Where shall be satisfied the soul's immortal, 
Where we shall drop the wearying and the wc 
In resting so ? 

" Ah, who would fear ?" 
Since, sometimes through the distant pearly po'i 
tal, 
Unclosing to some happy soul a-near, 
We catch a gleam of glorious light immortal, 
And strains of heavenly music faintly hear, 
Breathing good cheer ! 

" Who would endure " 
To walk in doubt and darkness with misgiving. 

When He whose tender promises are sure — 
The Crucified, the Lord, the Ever-living— 
Keeps us those " mansions " evermore secure 
Ey waters Dure ? 



26 -4/''^-' THERE FEW .'iA [ ED. 



^ 



Oh, wondrous land ! 
Fa. I'er tlian ail our spirit's fairest dreaming : 

'• Eye hatii not seen " — no heart can understand 
Tlie things prepared, the cloudless radiance stream- 
ing. 
How lonqingly we wait our Lord's command— 
His opening hand ! 

Oh, dear ones there ! 
'wlioso voices, hushed, have left our pathway 
Icnely, 
We come, ere long, your blessed home to share ; 
^I^ take the guiding Hand, we trust it only — 
Seeing, by faith, beyond this clouded aii-, 
That land so fair ! 

J. n. T., IX THE Round Table, 



{.ORD, ARE THERE FEW THAT BE SA VEDf 

TTjrHETHER there many be, or few, 
T f Elect the heavenly goal to win, 
Truly, I know not— this I know- 
That none who march with footsteps slow, 
That none who fight with hearts untrue, 
That none who serve with service cold, 
The Eternal City can behold, 
Or enter iu. 



^ 



-{f ^ ^ 

I . ARE rilERE FEW SAVED? o^ 

Whether there many be who thrive 

In their vast suit for that vast love, 
Truly, I know not— this I know- 
That love lives not in outward show ; 
That but to seek is not to strive ; 
Tliat thankless praises, empty prayers, 
Can claim no bond, for will of theirs 
His court to move. 

How long the door, unfastened now, 

Shall open by His grace remain, 
Truly, I know not— this I know— 
If once that grace aside He throw, 
No tear, no sigh, no anguished vow, 
Gnashing of teeth, wringing of hands, 
Shall di-aw the bolts and loose the bands 
Ever asrain. 



^ 



How long His wrath may yet forbear, 

And sheathe His sword, and hide His rod 
Truly, I know not— this I know- 
He points the aiTows of His bow, 
Wliile speed apace that night of fear, 
Of debt unpaid, of work undone, 
Where Mercy, Pardon, Hope is none, 
Laid up with God I 

From Hhrning Thonghti 




28 LO RD, TIIO U A R T MINE! 



LORD, TIIOU ART MINE} 

LORD, Thou art mine. 
Send help to me ! 
Christ, I am Thine, 
Deliyer me ! 
Tlien shall 1 praise and sing. 
My soul, bless thou thy God and King I*^ 

Mercies are Thine, 

Remember me ! 

Sad sins are mine, 

Oh, pardon me ! 

Then shall I praise and sing, 

My soul, bless thou thy God and Kmg V 



Lord, pity me ! 
Evil is mine. 
Forsake not me ! 
7 hen shall 1 praise and sing, 
'• My 30ul, bless thou thy God and King 1"' 

All light is Thine, 

Oh, shine on me I 
Darkness is mine, 
Enlighten me 1 
Then shall I praise and sing, 
" My soul, bless thou tliy God and King !" 



^ 




i^— ^ 

— -* Wi; STOOD BESIDE THE RIVER, 29 

True life is Thine, 

Breathe it on me I 
All death is mine, 
Oh, quicken me I 
Then shall I praise and sing, 
" My soul, bless thou thy God and King i" 

BONAR. 



WE STOOD BESIDE THE RIVER. 
TIJ'E stood beside the river, 
! y Whence all our souls must go, 
Bearing a loved one in our arms. 
Our hearts repeating the alarms 

That came across the river ; 
And saw the sun decline in mist. 
That rose until her brow it kissed, 
And left it cold as snow. 

Watching beside the river, 
With every ebb and flow, 
Fond hopes within our hearts would sprmg, 
Until another warning ring 

Came o'er the fearful river. 
We saw the flush, the brightness fade, 
The loving lips look grieved and sad, 

The white hands whiter grow. 

Watching by the river, . 
With anguish none can t<^;il - 




4 



30 ^'^^' ^TOOD BESIDE THE RIVER. 

And trembling hearts and hands, we strove 
To save the darling of our love 
From going down the river! 
Oh, powerless, but to weep and pray, 
And grieve for one who, far away. 
Had said his last farewell ! 

Weeping by the river, 

There came a blessed time, 
A solemn calm spread all around, 
Making it seem like holy ground, 

Beside the silent river ! 
The world receding from our eyes. 
Caught gleams of that dear land which lies 

In Canaan's hai3j)y clime ! 

And there, beside the river. 

Came lessons strange and sweet. 
The perfect work of patience done, 
The warfare finished, victory won 

With weak hands by the river ' 
The childlike fear, the clinging love. 
The darkness brightened from above, 

The peace at Jesus' feet ! 

Waiting by the river, 

Through mingled night and day, 
Sweet memories round our hearts we bring, 
Of Jesus' love and Heaven wc sing. 



KNJi:ELiyG AT TJIL TJ1KESH0LD. 3] 



1 

L 



To soothe her by the river ; 
And wept for one whose heart would break, 
Be pitiful for Jesus' sake. 

Father in heaven, we pray J 

Standing by the river, 
We closed the weary eyes, 
In Jesus' arms we laid her down, 
A lovely jewel for His crown. 

He bore her through the river. 
And clothed her in a robe so white, 
Too beautiful for mortal sight, 

And took her to the skies ! 



KNEELING AT THE THRESHOLD. 

t'ir kneeling at the threshold, weaiy, faint, and 
sore ; 
Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the 

door ; 
Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and 

come. 
To the glory of His presence, to the gladness of 
His home ! 

A weary path I've travclcii, 'mid darkness, storm, 

and strife : 
U^^aring many a burden, struggling for my life; 



ifj ^ 4t 

^ 32 KNEELING AT THE THEESHOLD. *— I 

But now the mom is breaking, my toil will soon 

be o'er, 
Fin. kneeling at the tliresliold, my band is on tbe 

door ! 

Meliiinks I bear tbe voices of tbe blessed as tbey 
stand, 

Singing in tbe sunsbine in tbe far-off sinless land ; 

Ob, would tbat I were witb tbem, amid tbeir shin- 
ing throng. 

Mingling in theii' worship, joining in tbeir song 1 

Tbe friends tbat started with me have entered 

long ago ; 
0736 by one they left me struggling witb tbe foe ; 
Tbeir pilgrimage was shorter, tbeir triumph surer 

won, 
How lovingly they'll hail me, when all my toil is 

done ! 



With tbem tbe blessed angels tbat know no grief 

or sin, 
I Dee them by tbe portals, prepared to let me in. 
Lord, I wait Thy pleasure ; Thy time and way 

are best ; 
Bv t I'm wasted, worn, and weary ; O Father, bid 

me rest ! 

GUTHRIE 



^ 



r.:^ 



^ ^ 

'-^ GOD TO ORDER ALL THY WA YS, 33 ""^ 



LEAVE GOD TO ORDER ALL THY WAYS. 

LEAVE God to order all thy ways, 
And liope in Him, whate'er betide ; 
ThouUt find Him in the evil days 

An all-sufficient strength and guide. 
Who trusts in God's unchanging love, 
Builds on the rock that naught can move. 

What can these anxious cares avail — 
These never-ceasing moans and sighs ? 

What can it help us to bewail 
Each i3ainful moment as it flies ? 

Our cross and trials do but press 

The heavier for our bitterness. 

Only your restless heart keej) still, 
And wait in cheerful hope, content 

To take whate'er His gracious will, 
His all-discerning love, hath sent ; 

Nor doubt our inmost wants are knowD 

To Him who chose us for His own I 

He knows when joyful hours are best. 
He sends them as He sees it meet ; 

When thou hast borne its fiery test, 
And now art freed from all deceit, 

He comes to thee all unaware. 



And makes thee own His loving care 




i:^ 



f 

rr 



34 GLORY IN TRIB ULA TION ALSO. 

Nor, in tlie heat of pain and strife, 
Think God hath cast thee off imhcartl ; 

Nor that the man whose prosperous life 
Thou enviest, is of him preferred. 

Time passes, and much change doth bring, 

And sets a bound to evei^thing. 

All are alike before His face : 
'Tis easy to our God most high 

To make the rich man poor and base, 
To give the poor man wealth and joy. 

True wonders still of Him are wi'ought, 

Who setteth up and brings to naught I 

Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways, 
But do thine own part faithfu.iij ; 

Trust His rich promises of grace, 
So shall it be fulfilled in thee : 

God never yet forsook at need 

The soul that trusted Him indeed I 

GEORGE NEH?.IAnii, 



WE GLORY IN TRIBULATION ALSO. 

a "II7ITHIN this leaf, to every eye 

T T So little worth, doth hidden lie 
Most rare and subtile fi-agrancy. 
Wouldst thou its secret strength unbind ? 
Crush it, and thou shalt perfume find 
Sweet as Arabia's spicv wind. 



HTMN. 35 



** In this dull stone so poor, and bare 
Of sbape or luster, patient care 
Will find for tliee a jewel rare I 
But first must skillful hands essay, 
Wi th file and flint, to clear away 
The film which hides its fire from day. 

'' This leaf! This stone 1 It is thy heart ; 
It must be crushed by jDain and smart ; 
It must be cleansed by sorrow's art, 
Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
Ere it will shine a jewel meet 
To lay before Thy dear Lord's feet !" 

Romans v. 3 



// r,J/ .V 

OnOLY Saviour, Friend unseen. 
The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean 
Help me, throughout Life's yaryhig scene, 
By faith to cling to Thee ! 

Blest with communion so Divine, 
Take what Thou wilt, shall I repine, 
When, as the branches to the vine, 
My soul may cling to Thee ? 

Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, 
Here she has found a j)lace of rest, 
A.n exile still, yet not unblest. 
While she can cling to Thee I 



4^ ^ 

TV It no ai ft murmur I dismiss 
My tbimcr dreams of eartlily bliss , 
My joy, my recompense be tliis, 
Each hour to cliug to Thee I 

What tt Dugh the world deceitful jjrove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove, 
With patient, uncomplaining love, 
Still would J cling to Thee ! 

Oft when I seem to tread alone 
Some barren waste with thorns o'crgroTVi^ 
A voice of love, in gentlest tone, 
Whispers, " Still cling to Me !" 

Though foith and hope avrhile be tried, 
I ask not, need not, aught beside ; 
How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
The souls that cling to Thee ! 

They fear not Life's rough storms to brave, 
Since Thou art near, and strong to save ; 
Nor shudder e'en at Death's dark wave, 
Because they cliug to Thee 1 

Blest is my lot, whate'er befall ; 
What can disturb me, who appal ; 
While, as my strength, my rock, my all, 
Saviom-, I cling to Thee I 

CriARLOTTE ELLIOT. 



% 



4^ — ~~~... ~^ 



h 



A 



" COME UA'TO ME I" 37 



'COME UXTO MEr 

RT thou ^-cary ? Art thou lauguul \ 
Aj't thou sore distrest ? 



" Come to Me," saith One, " and coming, 
Be at rest I" 

Hath He marks to lead me to Ilim, 

If He be my Guide ? 
" In His feet and hands are wound-prints 
And His side." 

Is there diadem as monarch 

That His brow adorns ? 
" Yea, a crown in very surety^ 
But of thorns !" 

If I find Him, if T follow, 

What His guerdon here ? 
" Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
Many a tear." 

K 1 still hold closely to Him, 

What hath He at last ? 
" Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
Jordan past I" 

If I ask Him to receive me, 

Will He say me nay ? 
" Not till earth and not till Hcaveti 
Pass awav I" 



r.z 



38 THE UXSEEN BA TTL E FIELD. 

Tending, following, keeping, struggling, 

Is He sure to bless ? 
" Angels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims, 
Answer — Yes !" 

From St. Stephen the SuhaiU. 



THE unsee:^j' battlefield. 

fpnERE is an unseen battle-field 
X In every liuman breast, «-. 

Where two opposing forces meet, 
And where they seldom rest. 

That Held is hid from mortal sight, 

'Tis only seen by One, 
Who knows alone where yictoiy lies 

When each day's fight is done. 

One anny clusters strong and iicrce, 

Tlieh* chief of demon form ; 
Ilis brow is like the thunder-cloud, 

His voice the biu'stiug storm. 

His captains. Pride, and Lust, and Hate, 
Whose troops watch night and day ; 

Swift to detect the weakest point, 
And thu'sting for the fray. 



| i T.: 



illE UXSEEN n A TTL E FIEL D. 30 



Oontending with this mighty force 

Is but a little band ; 
Tct there, with an unquailiug front, 

Those warriors firmly stand. 

Their leader is of God-like form, 

Of countenance serene ; 
And glowing on His naked breast 

A single cross is seen. 

His captains, Faith, and Hope, and Love; 

Point to that wondrous sign , 
And, gazing on it, all receive 

Strength from a source Divine. 

They feel it speaks a glorious truth, 

A truth as great as sure. 
That, to be victors, they must Icam 

To love, confide, endure. 

That faith sublime, in wildest strife, 

Impai-ts a holy calm ; 
For eveiy deadly blow a shield, 

For every wound a balm. 

And when they win that battle-field, 

Past toil is quite forgot ; 
The plain wliere carnage once liad reigned, 

Become a hallowed spot. 



4 



M- 



4-1 ■ — lit- 

— ' 40 WITnOCT MONET, ETU. ^^ 

Tlie spot v^beic joy of flowers and peace 

Sj)ring from the fertile sod, 
And breatlic the perfume of their praise 

On cYory breeze of God ! 



WITHOUT MONEY AND WITHOUT PRICE 

AN INVITATION. 

COME to Jesus ! Ai-e you lonely ? 
Solace sweet He will aiford. 
Lean on Jesus — Jesus only 1 
Come, and find a loying Lord ! 

Are your trials past the telling ? 

Are your sins as crimson dye ? 
Jesus sees your sad heart swelling, 

'Neath accusing Memory. 

fle is waiting — will you leave Hiu 
Pleading at your heart in vain ? 

He is willing — oh, believe Him 1 
He may never call again. 

He hath never yet forsaken 
One who trusts alone in God ; 

He your life-long debt hath taken, 
And hath paid it with His BloorL 



4^ 



& ^ 

'—^ WITFTOUT 3I0y-£r, ETC. 4) •— ' 

From your sins He waits to cleanse you — 

You ! the slave by Satan bound ; 
Messages of love He sends you — 

Where can such a Friend be fouur. ' 

Are you sick ? His word can heal you. 

Are you weary with the strife ? 
Are you hungry ? He can fill you 

With the Heavenly Bread of Life ! 

u!{oio ! it is the time to try it : 

Test Him by His written Word \ 
Come, for He will ne'er deny it ; 

Come to Christ, the Risen Lord ! 

Do you fear His shaip reproving 
• That you did not go before ; 
That you left Him — so unloving — 
Waiting long time at your door ? 

He will only smile and greet you. 
Chasing shadows from your brow ; 

He will surely run to meet you, 
Saying, " Thou art welcome now I" 

By still waters He will lead you. 

In green pastures you shall rest ; 
And the pierced hands that freed you. 

Bear you on His tender breast. 

" 4* 



^ 



J 



-ft-f 



42 LORD, THOU ARl MINEi 



Come, oh, come, this clay, and try it ! 

Jesus' wonls are proved and trne ; 
Take ITis gift, you cannot buy it — 

He hath waited long for you. 

ANNA SHTPIOH. 



''LOOKING UjYTi JjESUS." 

THOU, Lord, my path shalt choose, 
And my Guide be ! 
What shall I fear to lose 

While I have Thee ? 
This be my portion blest, 
On my Redeemer's breast, 
In peaceful trust to rest : 
He cares for mc ! 

Shall, I then, choose my way ! 

Never, oh, no ! 
I, a creature of a day, 

What can I know ? 
Wliat dread perplexity, 
Then would encompass mc ; 
Now I can look to Thee, 

Thou orderest so I 

Thi? lightens every cross, 
' Cheers every ill : 



n 



" LOOKING UNTO JESG.V' 43 



Buffer I grief or loss, 

It is Thy will I 
(VTio can make no mistake, 
Jliooseth tlie way I take ; 
3.Q who can ne'er forsake, 

Holds my hand still ! 

Sweet words of peace and Icve 

Christ whispers me ! 
Bearing my soul alooye 

Life's troubled sea I 
This bo my portion blest, 
On my Redeemer's breast 
In peaceful trust to rest : 
He cares for me I 

Christ died my love to win, 

Christ is my tower ! 
He will be with me in 

Each trying hour I 
Ho makes the wounded whole, 
He will my heart console, 
He will uphold my soul 

By His own power 1 

To Thee, the only Wise, 

"Whatever be, 
I will lift up mine eyes 

Joyful in Thee \ 



-_,U..L.. 



4 ^ 

pJ a TTTK SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 




This be my portion blest. 
On my Redeemers breast 
In peaceful trust to rest : 
He cares for me ! 

Fiom tliG Gcrmc.^ 



THE SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 

AND Tvliither came tliece goodly stones 
'Twas Israel's pride to raise ; 
The glory of the former house, 

The joy of ancient days ; 
In purity and strength erect, 
In radiant splendor bright, 
Sparkling with golden beams of noon, 
Or silver smiles of night ? 

From coasts the stately cedar crowns 

Each noble slab was brought. 
In Lebanon's deej) quarries hewn, 

And on its mountains wrought ; 
There rung the hammer's heavy stroke 

Among the echoing rocks ; 
There chased the chisel's keen, shai^p edge^ 

The rude, unshapen blocks. 

Thence polished, j)erfected, complete, 
Each fitted to Its place. 



^ 



THE SPIRITUAL TEMPLE. 45 



^ 



For lofty coping, massive walls. 

Or deep imbedded base — 
They bore them o'er the waves that rolled 

Their billowy swell between 
The shores of Tyre's im]3erial pride, 

And Jiidah's hills of green. 

With gradual toil the work went on, 

Through days, and months, and years, 
Beneath the Summer's laughing sun, 

And Winter's frozen tears. 
And thus in majesty sublime 

And noiseless pomp it rose — 
Fit dwelling for the God of peace I 

A temple of repose. 

Brethren in Christ, to holier things 

The simple type apply ; 
Our God himself a temple builds, 

Eternal, and on high, 
Of ransomed souls ; their Zion there — 

That world of light and bliss — 
Their Lebanon, the place of toil, 

Of previous moulding — this I 

From Nature's quames, deep and dark, 

With gracious aim He hews 
The stones, the spiritual stones, 

It -Dleaseth Him to choose. 



j:[+ 



^ ' -T^ 

r—J 4g THE Sl'lRlTUAL 7 EM PL E '— i 

Hard, rugged, shapeless at the first, 

Yet destined each to shine — 
Moulded beneath His patient hand — 

In purity divine. 

Oh, glorious process ! see the proud 

Grow lowly, gentle, meek ; 
See floods of unaccustomed tears 

Gush down the hardened cheek : 
Perchance the hammer's heavy stroke 

O'erthrew some idol fond ; 
Perchance the chisel rent in twain 

Some precious, tender bond. 

Behold, he prays ! Whose lips were sealed 

In quiet scorn before. 
Sighs for the closet's holy calm. 

And hails the welcome door. 
Behold, he works for Jesus now. 

Whose days went idly past ; 
Oh, for more mouldings of the Hand 

That works a change so vast I 



Ye looked on one, a well-wrought stone, 

A saint of God matured. 
Wliat chiselings that heart, had felt ! 

What chastening; strokes endured ' 




^ 



^ 



^ 



OSLY OUR LOVE. 



47 



^ 



But marked ye not that last soft touch 

What perfect grace it gave, 
Ere Jesus bore His servant home 

Across the darksome wave ? 

Home to the place His grace designed 

That chosen soul to fill, 
Li the bright temple of the saved. 

Upon His holy hill. 
Home to the noiselessness, the peace 

Of those sweet shrines above, 
"Wliose stones shall never be displaced - 

Set in redeeming love. 

Lord, chisel, chasten, polish us, 

Each blemish wash away ; 
Cleanse us with purifying blood, 

In spotless robes array ; 
And thus, Thine image on us stamped. 

Transport us to the shore 
Where not a stroke is ever felt, 

For none is needed more 



ONLY OUR LO VK 

TO do Thy holy will ; 
To bear Thy cross ; 
To trust Thy mercy stiil, 
lu pain or loss : 



r~ 



XJ 



48 ONLY OUR LOVE. 



i 



» 



Poor gifts are these to bring, 

Dear Lord, to Thee, 
Who Iiast done cverythingr 
For me I 

For Tliy beloved Son 

And precious Word ; 
For all Thy goodness done 

On earth, O Lord 1 
For leave that I may live, — 

Blest boon of Thine, — 
What recompense can give 

This heart of mine ? 

Wnat, for Thy glorious earth,— • 

Thy stars and flowers 'i 
What, for Thy seasons' birth. 

Kind Lord of ours ? 
What, for the gentle ones 

Whose lives I share ? 
For home, and the kindly tones 

Love whispers there ? 

Thou, Who enthroned above 

Dost hear our call, 
Oh, can our faithful love 

< !iv Thee for all 2 



IN THE CLOSET. 49 ' — 



Poor recompense to bring, 

Dear Lord, to Thee, 
Who hast done eyerything 
For me ! 

GEORGE COOPEJt 



JN THE CLOSET. 

THE air is stirred with holy life, 
All earthly thoughts take wing ; 
Hushed be the tumult of my heart. 



Yes I o'er my bowed and weeping head, 

I feel their waving wings. 
While mercy-drops are falling round, 

Drops from the heavenly springs. 

And softly from the holy haze 

Falls forth the word of cheer : 
" Speak, troubled soul, what is thy need ? 

Jesus Himself is here I" 

" My Lord and God !" my soul replies, 

" I hear Thy gracious call ; 
No need have I, since Thou art here. 

Thou art my all in all ! 

'^. '- ■ ^ 



Uh. 



50 ^^^D THEY SHALL SEE lUS FA CE. 

" Oil, let me ever here repose 
Upon Thy soothing breast ; 

For now I know how blissfully 
Thy weary ones find rest !" 



D. r., n 



IN SUFFERING 

FATHER, Thy will, not mine, be done ; 
So prayed on earth Thy sufleiTog Sou 
So in His name I pray. 
The spirit faints, the flesh is vrcak. 
Thy heli^ in agony I seek — 
Oh, take this cup away ! 

If such be not Thy sov'reign will. 
Thy wiser purpose then fulfill ; 

My wishes I resign ; 
Into Thy hands my soul commend, 
On Thee for life or death depend ; 

Thy will be done, not mine. 



AND THEY SHALL SEE HIS FACE. 

TXTHAT must it be to dwell above, 
T f At God's right hand, where Jesus rcJgns. 
Since the sweet earnest of His love 
O'erwhelms us on these dreary plains I 

-f^n rp- 



l±. 



4-4" 

LX THE OTHER WORLD. 5] 

No heart can tliink, no tongue explain, 
Wliat blis?, it is with Christ to reign. 

Wlien sin no more obstructs our sight, ■ 

When sorrow pains our heart no more, 

How shall we view the Prince of Lig-ht, I 

I 
And ail His works of grace explore ! ' 

What heights and depths of love Divino 

Will there through endless ages shine I 

Well, He has fixed the hapi^y day 
When the last tears will wet our eyes, 

And God shall wipe all tears away, 
And fill us with Divine surprise 

To hear His voice, and see His fiice. 

And feel His infinite embrace ! 

This is the Heaven I long to know ; 

For this, with patience, I would wait, 
Till, weaned from earth and all below, 

I mount to my celestial seat, 
And wave my palm, and wear my crown. 
And, with the elders, cast them down. 

SWAC, 



IN THE OTHER WORLD. 

IT lies around us like a cloud — 
A world we do not see ; 
Yet the sweet closing of an eye 
May bring us there to be. 



^ rf^ 



4'- 



^2 /^^ THE OTHER WORLD. 



Its gentle breezes fan our cheek ; 

Amid our worldly cares 
Its gentle Toices whisper love, 

And mingle with our j^rayers. 

Sweet hearts around us throb and beat. 

Sweet helping hands are stirred, 
led pali)itates the veil between 

With breathings almost heard. 

The silence— awful, sweet, and calm — 

They have no power to break ; 
For mortal words are not for them 

To utter or i)aii;ake. 

So thin, so soft, so sweet they giide, 

So near to press they seem — 
rhey seem to lull us to our rest. 

And melt into our dream. 

And in the hush of rest they bring 

'Tis easy now to see 
IIow lovely, and how sweet a i)as3, 

The horn' of death may be. 

To close the eye, and close the car, 

Wrapped in a trance of bliss, 
And gently dream in loving arms 

To swoon to that— from this, 

1 ^ 




± 



ct 



CHRIST RISEN. 53 



Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, 

Scarce asking where we arc, 
To feel all evil sink away, 

Ml sorrow and all care. 

Sweet riouls aroimcl us ! watch us still, 

Press nearer to our side, 
Into our thoughts, into our prayers, 

With gentle helpings glide. 

Let death between us be as naught, 
A dried and vanished stream : 

Your joy be the reality, 

Oui' suflermg life the dream. 

II. BEECriEK STOWE, 



CHRIST RISEN. 

THE foe behind, the deep before. 
Our hosts have dared and past the sea -, 
And Pharoah'd warriors strew the shore, 
And Israel's ransomed tribes are free. 
Lift up, lift up your voices now ! 
The whole wide-world rejoices now ! 
The Lord hath triumphed gloriously ] 
The Lord shall reign victoriously ! 
Happy morrow. 
Turning son'ow 

Into peace and mirth I 



T 



-J" 



^ 54 CllJlIST RISEK 



A± 



Bondage ending, 
Love descending 

O'er the earth I 
Seals assuring, 
Guard's securing ; 

Watch his earthly inison, 
Seals are shattered, 
Guards are scattered, 

Christ hath risen ! 



No longer must the mourners weep, 
Nor call departed Christians dead ; 

For death is hallowed into sleep 
And every grave becomes a bed- 
Now once more 
Eden's door 

Open stands to mortal eyes ; 

For Christ hath risen, and men shall nsA : 
Now at last. 
Old things past, 

Hope, and joy, and peace begin : 

For Christ hath won, and men shall win. 

It is not exile, rest on high : 

It is not sadness, peace from strife : 

To fiill asleep is not to die : 

To dwell with Christ is better life. 

4^ ^ 



IMMANULLS LAND. 



53 



Wliere oui- banner leads us, 

We may safely go : 
Wliere our Chief precedes us, 

We may face tlie foe. 
His right arm is o'er us, 

He will guide us through ; 
Christ hath gone before us ; 

Christians ! follow you ! 

joh:n- mason neale. 



^H- 



GLORY DWELLETH IN niMANUEVS 

I. 

THE sands of time are sinking, 
The dawn of Heaven breaks, 
The Summer mora I've sighed for. 
The fair sweet mom, awakes ! 

» Samuel Kiithcrford, a man of great learning and talents, was 
Brsta Piofossoi- in the University of Edinburgh, then minister 
t>f tile parish of Anworth, and Eiibscquently Professor of Theo- 
logy at at. Andrew's, in Scotland. At one time he was impris- 
o.-ieJ for the name of Jesus. His death-bod was as remarkable 
fts his life liad been. Some of his dying expressions are pre- 
served by Mr. Fleming in his Fidjilling of Scripture, who thae 
concludes his narrative : " And thus, full of the Spirit, yea. as it 
were, overcome with sensible enjoymenr, he breathed o>.t his 
soul, his last words being: 'Glory, glory dwelleth in Imnian- 
uerslaiull"' 



■^ 



4 



IQ niMANUEUS LAND. 

Dark, dark liatli been the miclniglit, 

Bui. dayspring is at hand, 
And glory — glory dwelleth 

In Invmauuel's land. 

II. 
Oil, well it is for ever ! 

Oh, well for evermore ! 
My nest hung in no forest 

Of all this death-doomed sK)»*e. 
Yea, let the vain "world vanish^ 

As from the ship the strfna, 
While glory — glory dwellet^\ 

In Immanuel's land. 

ni. 

There tlie Red Rose of Aharon 

Unfolds its heartsome bloom 
And fills the air of Pleaven 

With ravishing perfumt : 
Oh, to behold it blossom, 

While by its fragrance faiined 
While glory — gloi7 dwelleth 

lu Immanuel's land. 

IT. 

The King there, in His beauty, 
Without a vail, is seen : 

^ . ^ 



+ 



4i 



IMMAKUErS LAND. 



It were a well-spent journey, 
Tliougli seven deaths lay between. 

The Lamb, with His fan* army, 
Doth on Mount Zion stand, 

And glory— gloiy dwelleth 
In ImmanuePs land. 



Y. 

Oh, Christ He is the Fountain, 

The deep sweet well of love I 
The streams on earth I've tasted^ 

More deep I'll drink above : 
There, to an ocean fulness. 

His mercy doth expand, 
And glory — glory dwelleth 

In Immanuel's land. 



E'en Anworth was not heaven — 

E'en preaching was not Christ ; 
And in my sea-beat prison 

My Lord and I held tryst : 
And aye my murkiest storm-cloud 

Was by a rainbow spanned, 
Caught from the gloiy dwelling 

In Immanuel's land. 



4- 



nF 



1^ — ^ -^ — ^ 

'—' 58 /JtfMAXO'£L\S LAND. ^ 

VII. 

But that He built a heaven 

Of PI is surpassing love, 
A little New Jerusalem, 

Like to the one above — 
" Lord, take me o'er the water," 

Had been my loud demand ; 
" Take me to love's own country, 

Unto Immanucl's land." 

YIII, 

But flowers need night's cool darkness, 

The moouliglit and the dew ; 
So Christ, from one who loved it, 

His shining oft withdrew : 
And then, for cause of absence. 

My troubled soul I scanned— 
But glory, shadeless, shinetli 

In Immanuers land. 

IX. 

The little birds at Anworth 

I used to count them blest — 
Now, beside happier altars 

I go to build my nest : 
O'er these there broods no silence. 

No graves around them stand , 
For glory, deathless, dwelleth 

In I'-imaDueFs Innd. 



-hn 



f 



^ 



IMMANUEUS LAXD. 59 



Fair Anwortli by the Sol-way, 

To mc thou still art dear ! 
E'en from the verge of Heaven 

I drop for thee a tear. 
Oh, if one soul from Anworth 

Meet me at God's light band, 
My heaven will be two heavens 

In Immanuel's land. 

XI. 

I've wrestled on toward Heaven, 

'Gainst stoinn, and wind, and tide 
Now, like a weary traveler. 

That leaneth on his guide. 
Amid the shades of evening, 

While sinks life's lingering sand, 
I hail the glory dawning 

From Immanuel's land. 

XII. 

Deep waters. crossed life's pathway, . 

The hedge of thoras was sharp : 
Now, these lie all behind me— 

Oil, for a well-tuned hai-p ! 
Oh, to join Hallelujah 

With yon triumphant band, 
Wlio sing, where glory dwelleth, 

In Immanuel's land 



j:+ 



60 



/miAXUEUS LAND. L 



xni. 

With mercy and with jadgment 

My web of time He wove, 
And aye the dews of sorrow 

Were lustered with His love : 
I'll bless the Hand that guided, 

I'll bless the Heart that planned 
When throned where glory dwcUeth, 

In IminanueFs land. 

Soon shall the cup of glory 

Wash down earth's bitterest woes, 
Soon shall the desert's brier 

Break into Eden's rose ; 
The curse shall change to blessing— 

The name on earth that's banned. 
Be graven on the white stone 

In Immanuel's laud. 

XY. 

Oh, I am my Beloved's, 

And my Beloved is mine 1 
He brings a poor vile sinner 

Into His " house of wine 1" 
I stand upon His merit, 

I know no safer stand, 
Xot e'en where glory dwelletb 

Irj Immanuoi's land. 



■*T^- ■ ^ 



IMMAXUELS LAJL'. 61 



XYI. 

I sliall sleep sound in Jesns, 

Filled with His likeness rise, 
To live and to adore Him, 

To see Him with these eyes : 
*Tween me and resurrection 

But Paradise doth stand ; 
Then — then for glory dwelling. 

In Immanuel's land. 

XYII. 

The bride eyes not her garments, 

But her dear bridegroom's face ; 
I will not gaze at glory, 

But on my King of Grace — 
Not at the crown He giyeth, 

But on His jiierced hand : 
The Lamb is all the glory 

Of Immanuel's land. 

XVIII. 

I have borne scorn and hatred, 

I have borne wrong and shame 
Earth's proud ones have reproached me, 

For Christ's thrice-blessed name : 
Where God's seal set the fairest, 

They've stamped thcu* foulest brand ; 
But judgment shines like noonday 

In Immanuel's land, 

^1 : ^ 



f 



Q2 SURELY I CO Mi: QUICKLY. 



% 



SURELY I COME QUICKLY. 

O'ER tlie distant mountains breaking, 
Comes tlie reddening dawn of day ; 
Rise, my soul, from sleej) awaking, 
Rise and sing, and watcli, and pray,— 

'Tis tliy Saviour, 
On His bright returning way. 

O Tliou long-expected, weary 
Waits my anxious soul for Thee I 

Life is dark, and earth is dreary, 
Where Thy light I do not sec. 

O my Sayiour, 
When wilt Thou return to me I 

Long, too long, in sin and sadness, 
Far away from Thee I pine ; 

When, oh, when shall I the gladne^ 
Of Thy Spirit feel in mine ! 

O my Sayiour, 
When shall I be wholly Thine I 

Heaven is my soul's salvation ; 

Spent the night the day at hand ; 
Seep me in my lowly station. 

Watching for Thee, till I stand, 
O my Sa\iour, 

In Thv bright and promised land I 



f 



^ 



*' HE GOKTIl BEFORE THEM" 63 

Witli my lamp well trimmed and buniitig, 
Swift to hear, and slow to roam, 

Watching for Thy glad returning, 
To restore me to my home. 
Come, my Saviour — 
O my Saviour, quickly come ! 



"HE GOETJl BEFORE THE Mr 

rrilE winds blow fierce across the barren wild ; 
JL The storm-clouds gather darkly on our way ; 
'Tis cold ! But, oh, that loving face and mild, 

Which goes before ! tliere first the shadows stay ; 
And tempests reach Him first, om* Shepherd there : 
What He endures shall we complain to bear ? 

The night comes on — 'tis dark ! the stars ai-e dim, 
We cannot see the way ! But, oh, that form 

Which goes before ! the night comes j^r6-i to Him • 
And darkness first is His, — as was the storm ! 

Shall we shrink back, or tremble to go on, 

Where He, our Shepherd, first for us hath gone ? 

The way is rough, and wcaiying steeps arise ; 

And thorns are there to wound our aching feet. 
But, oh, those sacred footsteps, firm and wise, 

Which go before ! they first the roughness meet, 



^ 



4 ' ^ 

64 ''BE GOETIl BEFOKE TIIEMr ' 

And briers reach tliern first I Oh, sliall we dread 
To bear Hk cross— to walk where He hath led ? 



The stream is reached ;— the river dark and cold ; 

The waves are high ! But, oh, that mighty One. 
\Vho goes before !— tlie billows o'er Him rolled ; 

He crossed the waters first, and shall we shun 
The final anguish which our Shepherd bore % 
His hand shall guide us to the other shore ! 

He goes hefore ! And so we may not look 
Backward at all, but onward evermore ; 

Keeping in sight the blessed path He took, 
Patient to bear each cross He meekly bore ; 

Trusting His wisdom in the darkest hour ; 

O'ercoming every trial through His power ! 

He goes before ! a shield against the storm : 
A shadow in the noon-day, — lights at night ; 

In danger's hour, there is the Shepherd's form 
But just beyond ; though fears may dim om 
sight, 

Oh, earthly flock, fear not forcvermore ! 

\Ylicrc'er we walk, oui Shepherd " goes before." 

J. H. T. 



^ ^ 



4^ 1%. 

. — i //AS' .VAMR. AS i — . 



ms XAME. 65 



HIS NAME 

0A7ONDERFUL ! round ^vllosc birth-boui 
Prophetic song, miraculous power, 
Cluster and hum, like star and flower. 

Tliose marvelous rays that at Thy will, 
From the closed Heaven which is so chii'. 
So passionless, stream'd round Thee still. 

Are but as broken gleams that start, 
O Light of lights, from Thy deep heart, 
Thyself, Thyself, the Wonder art ! 

O Counselor ! four thousand years, 
One question, tremulous with tears, 
One awful question, vexed our peers. 

They ask'd the vault, but no one spoke ; 
They ask'd the depth, no answer woke ; 
They ask'd their hearts, that only broke. 

They look'd, and sometimes on the height 
Far off they saw a haze of white, 
That was a storm, but look'd like light. 

The secret of tlie years is read, 
The' enigma of the quick and dead 
By the child- voice interpreted. 



XL. 



^ 



4^~ ' % 

—J 56 HIS NAMK ^— ^ 

O everlasting Father, God I 

Sun after sun went down, and trod 

Race after race the ^reen earth's sod. 

Till generations seemed to be 
But dead waves of an endless sea, 
But dead leaves from a deathless tree. 

But Thou hast come, and now we know 
Each wave hath an eternal flow, 
Each leaf a lifetime after snow. 

O Prince of Peace I crown'd, yet discrown 'd, 
They say no war nor battle's sound 
Was heard the tired world around ; 

They say the hour that Thou didst come, 
The trumpet's voice was stricken dumb, 
And no one beat the battle-drum. 

Yea, still as life to them that mark. 
Its poor adventure seems a bark, 
Whose track is pale, whose sail is dark , 

Thou who art Wonderful dost fling 
One ray, till like a sea-bird's wing 
Tlie canvas is a «nowy thing, — 

^ ^ 



^ 



*- 



ms NAME. (J 7 -i 



Till the dark boat is tum'd to golJ, 
The sunlit-silvcr'd ocean rolled 
With anthems that are new and old, 

With noble path of luminous ray 
From the boat slanting all the way, 
To the island of undying day. 

And still as clouding questions swarm 
Around our hearts, and dimly form 
Their problems of the mist and storm ; 

And still as ages fleet, but fraught 
With syllables, whereby is wrought 
The fullness of the Eternal thought ; 

And when not yet in God's sunshine, 
The smoke drifts from the embattled line 
Of warning hearts that would be Thine I 

We bid our doubts and passions cease, 
Our restless fears be still'd with these— 
Counselor, Fa ther. Prince of Peace I 

BEV. WILLIAM ALEX AND EB. 



%.^ rfr 



^ — ^ 



THE E'EN BRINGS A' JIAMK 



THE E'EN BRINGS A' IIAME. 

UPON tlie hills the wind is sliai^:) and cold. 
Tlie sweet young grasses wither on the wold, 
And we, O Lord ! have wander'd from Thy fold : 
But evening brings us home. 

Among the mists we stumbled, and the rocks 
Where the brown lichen whitens, and the fox 
Watches the straggler from the scattered flocks ; 
But evening brings us home. 

Tlie shaq) thorns prick us, and our tender feet 
Aj*e cut and bleeding, and the lambs repeat 
Their i:)itiful com23laints — oh, rest is sweet 
When evening brings us home. 

We have been wounded by the hunters' darts ; 
Our eyes are veiy heavy, and our hearts 
H^carch for Thy coming— when the light departs 
At evening, bring us home. 

The darkness garners. Through the gloom no star 
Rises to guide us. We have wander'd far — 
Without Thy lamp we know not where we are ; 
At evening bring us home. 



^ 



1^ 



KNOCKING, EVKR KNOCKING. G9 




The clouds are round us, and the snowdrifts 

thicken : 
O Tliou, dear Shepherd ! leave us not to sicken 
In the waste night ; our tardy footsteps quicken, 

At eveninj]^ hvm^f us home. 



KNOCKING, EVER KNOCKING. 

[Suggested by Hunt's Picture of the "Light of the World.'^ 

" Bahold^ I stand at the door and Iciiock /■" 

I r NOCKING, knocking,^ever knocking I 
L Who is there ? 
'Tis a pilgrim, strange and kingly, 

Never such was seen before ; — 
Ah, sweet soul, for such a wonder 
Undo the door. 

No ! that door is hard to open ; 
Hinges rusty, latch is broken ; 

Bid Him go. 
Wherefore, with that knocking dreary 
Scare the sleep from one so weary ? 

Say Him — no. 

Knocking, knocking, ever knocking ? 

What! Stilf there? 
Oh, sweet soul, but once behold Him, 
With the glory crowned hair ; 



4' 



70 KNOCKING, EVER KNOCKING, 

Ajici .hose eyes, so strange and tender, 

Waiting tliere ; 
Open ! Open ! Once behold Him — 

Him, so fair ! 

Ah, that door ! Why wilt Thou tcx me, 

Coming ever to j^ei-plex me ? 

For the key is stiffly rusty, 

And the bolt is clogg'd and dusty ; 

Many-finger' d ivy vine 

Seals it fast vrith twist and twine ; 

Weeds of years,^ and years before, 

Choke the passage of that door. 

Knocking, knocking ! What? Still knocking I 

He still there ? 
What's the hour ? The night is waning — 
In my heart a drear comjDlaining, 

And a chilly, sad unrest ! 
Ah, this knocking ! It disturbs mc 1 
Scares my sleejo with dreams unblest ! 

Give me rest : 

Rest — ah, rest ! 

Rest, dear soul. He longs to give thee ; 
Thou hast only dream'd of pleasure — 
Dream'd of gifts and golden treasure — 
:)ream'd of jewels in thy keeping, 



^ 



^ 



,ti ■ \i+ 

«J JACOB'S LADDER. 171 I ' 



Waked to weariness of weeping ;-.-- 
OjDen to thy soul's one Lover, 
And thy niglit of dreams is over,— 
The true gifts He brings have seeming 
More than all thy faded dreaming 



's' 



Did she ojDcn ? Doth she ? Will slie ? 
So, as wondering we behold, 
Grows the picture to a sign. 
Pressed upon your soul and mine ; 
For in every breast that liveth 
Ts that strange mysterious door ;— 
The forsaken and betangled. 
Ivy-gnarled and weed-bej angled, 
Dusty, rusty, and forgotten ;— 
There the pierced hand still knockcth, 
And with ever patient watching, 
With the sad eyes true and tender, 
With the glory-crowned hair,— 
Still a God is waiting there. 

n, BEECHEll STOTVB 



J A COB' S LADDER. 
E 1 many a time wc look on starlit-nights 
Up to the sky, as Jacob did of old ; 
Lo'ik longing up to the eternal lights, 
To spell theii' lives of gold. 



^ 



^ 



, — I ^2 JACOB'S L ADD KR. 

But QGver more, as to the Hebrew boy, 

Each on his way the Angels walk abroad, 
tVnd never more we hear, with awful joy, 
The' audible voice of God. 

Yet, to pure eyes the ladder still is set. 

And Angel visitants still come and go ; 
Many bright messengers are moving yet 
From the dark world below. 

Thoughts, that are surely Faith's outspreading 
wings — 
Prayers of the Church, aye keeping time and 
tryst — 
Heart-wishes, making bee-like murmurings, 
Theii' flower the Eucharist. 

Spirits elect, through suffering render'd meet 

For those high mansions — from the nursery-door 
Bright babes that seem to climb with clay-cold 
feet, 

Up to the Golden Floor— 

Tliesc are the messengers, forever wending 

From earth to Heaven, that faith alone may 
scan ; 
Tlicse arc the Angels of oiu' God, ascending 
Upon the Son of Man ! 

W. ALEXAIsDEB. 

^ ^ ^ 



4 4t 



MAIiAIl. 78 



MA R A II . 



GOD scuds ui bitter, tliat the s^7cet, 
By absence known, may sweeter prove ; 
As dark for liglit, as cold for heat, 



Brings greater love. 



God sends us bitter, as to show 

He can both sweet and bitter send ; 

That both the might and love we know 

Of our great Friend. 

He sends us bitter, lest too gay 

We wreathe around our heads the rose, 
And count our right, what Heaven ea ;h da} 
As alma bestows. 

God sends us bitter, lest we fail 

That bitterest Grief aright to prize 
Which did for all the world avail 
In His own eyes. 

God sends us bittei. ^11 our sins 
Embittering ; yet so kindly sends, 
The path that bitterness begins 
111 ^.wp-ituess ends, 

^ ^ ^ 



tf^ ^ ^ 

74 MAR AH. 

He sends us bitter, that Heaven's sweet, 
Earth's bitter o'er, may sweeter taste ; 
As Canaan's ground to Israel's feet, 
For that great waste. 

Our passions murmur and rebel, 

But Faith cries out unto the Lord, 
And prayer by patience worketh well 
Its own reward. 

For, if our heart the lesson draws 

Aright, by bitter chastening taught, 
To keep His statutes and His laws 
Even as we ought, 

He openeth our eyes to sec 

(Eyes that our pride of heart had sea'Id) 
The sweetness of Life's heavenly Tree, 
And grief is heal'd. 

And lo I before us in the way 

We view the fountains and the palms. 
And drink, and pitch -^ur tents, and stay 
Singing nwcet psalms. 

•■JHARLES LAWRENCE FORD 



^X 



4j ' ll. 

* PER PACEM AD LUCEM. 75 ^ 

PER PACEM AD LUCEM. 

J DO not ask, O Lord ! that life may be 
A i^leasant road ; 
r do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me 

Aught of its load ; 
I do not ask that flowers should always sprino- 

Beneath my feet ; 
I know too well the poison and the sting 

Of things too sweet. 
For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord ! I plead : 

Lead me aright^ 
Though strength should falter, and though heart 
should bleed- 
Through Peace to Light. 

I do not ask, O Lord I that Thou shouidst shed 

Full radiance here ,• 
Give but a ray of Peace, that I may tread 

Without a fear. 
I do not ask my cross to understand, 

My way to see, — 
Better in darkness just to feel Thy Ha^d, 

And follow Thee. 
Joy is like restless day, but Peace Divine 

Like quiet night. 
Lead Tnc, O Lord ! till perfect Day shall shine, 

Through Peace to Light. 

A. A. PHOCTOfi 

, ^4+ 



1^ 



76 * ' ^ VKy A s^ TIIO u n 'IL T. ' 



^' EVEN AS THOU WILT." 

a IT AVE mercy on me. Lord !" 

xi. She followed Him, and cried ; and when 
there came 
No answer, follow'd, crying still the same,- - 
" Have mercy on me, Lord !" 

" Send her away," they said — 
They who should be dispensers of His grace, 
Would have Him turn from her who sought His 
face : 

" Send her avray," they said. 

He spoke their thought aloud — 
" It is not meet to take the children's bread 
And cast it to the dogs " — as if He said, 
"How poor ye are and proud.'' 

" Yea, Lord ! and yet the dogs 
Eat of the crumbs that from the children fall," 
She pleaded—" and there is enough for ail — 

For children and for dogs." 

iVnd He to her replied, 
" Even as Thou wilt, so be it unto Thee. 
Thy heart the measure of the grace shall be 

From my rich store supplied." 

^ ^ rf 



THE TWO SUNSETS. ^.^ 

She had the thing she would — 
Lord 1 if I dip my cup into the sea, 
[t rises full. Such cup each soul may be, 

Snch Ocean is Thy good I 



THE TWO SUNSETS. 

1^0 bird-song floated do',vn the hill, 
li The tangled bank beloTV was still ; 

No rustle from the birchen stem, 
No ripple trom the water's hem. 

The dusk of twilight round us grew, 
We felt the falling of the dew ; 

For, from us, ere the day was done, 
The wooded hills shut out the sun. 

But on the river's farther side. 
We saw the hill-tops glorified : 

A tender glow, exceeding fair, 
A dream of day without its glare. 



\V ith us the damp, the chill, the glootc ; 
With them the sunset's rosy bloom ; 



^ 



_4j ^tf 

Wliile dark, through willowy vistas iseen, 
The river rolled in shade between. 

From out the darkness, where we trod, 
We gazed upon those hills of God, 

Whose light seemed not of moon or sun ; 
We spake not, but our thought was one. 

We paused, as if from that bright shore 
Beckoned our dear ones gone before ; 

And stilled our beating heaiis to hear 
The voices lost to mortal ear ! 

Sudden our pathway turned fi-om night ; 
The hUls swung open to the light ; 

Thro' their green gates the sunshine showed , 
A long, slant splendor downward flowed. 

Down glade, and glen, and ^^ank it rolled : 
It bridged the shaded stream with gold, 

And, borne on piers oi mist, allied 
The shadowy with the sunlit side ! 

*' So," prayed we, " v/her our feet 'Iran' near 
The liver, dark with ra " fear. 

^n ^ 



wnr DOST Tiiou wait? 79 



^t 



A.nd the niglit cometh, cbil] with clew, 
O Fatlier ! let Thy liglit break through 1 

So let the hills of doubt divide, 

So bridge with faith the sunless tide ! 

So let the eyes that fail on earth 
On Thy eternal hills look forth ; 

And, in Thy beckoning angels, know 
The dear ones whom we loved below !" 

jorcsr G. wniTTiER, 



WHY DOST THOU WAIT? 

POOR trembling lamb ! Ah, who outside the 
fold 
Has bid thee stand, all weary as thou art ? 
Dangers around thee, and the bitter cold 

Creeping and growing to thine inmost heart ; 
Wlio bids thee wait till some mysterious feeling, 
Tliou Imow'st not what— perchance may never 
know — 
Shall find thee where in darkness thou art knecl- 
• 'ng, 
And fill thee with a rich and wondrous glow 
Of love and faith ; and change to warmth and 
light 
Tlie chill and darkness of thy spirit's night ? 



4i 



80 ^iiy L) OS T TIIO U WA ITT 



For miracles like this, -who bids tliee wait ? 

Behold, " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come l** 
The tender Shepherd oj^ens wide the gate, 

And in His love would gently lead thee home. 
Why shouldst thou wait ? Long centuries ago, 

Thou timid lamb, the SheiDherd paid for thee. 
Thou art Fis own. Wouldst thou His beauty 
know, 

Nor trust the love which yet thou canst not sec ? 
Thou hast not learned this lesson to receive ; 

More biess'd are they who sec not, yet believe. 

Still dost thou wait for feeling ? Dost thou say, 

" Fain would I love and trust, but hope is dead , 
I have no faith, and without faith, who may 

Rest in the blessing which is only shed 
Upon the faithful ? I must stand and wait." 

Not so. The Shepherd does not ask of thee 
Faith in thy faith, but only faith in Him. 

And this He meant in saying, " Come to Me I" 
In light or darkness seek to do His will, 

And leave the Avork of faith to Jesus still. 

Church Joihrnal, 



TFIE EVJillLASTING MEMORIAL. 81 



THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL 

UP smd away, like tlie dew of the morning, 
Tliat soars from tlie earth to its home in the 
sun, — 
Bo let me steal away, gently and lovingly, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

My name, and my place, and my tomb all for* 
gotten, 

The brief race of time well aiid patiently run, 
80 let me pass away, peacefally, silently. 

Only remembered by what I have done. 

Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, 
Up to the crown that for me lias been won ; 

Unthought of by man in rewards or in jjraises, — 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Up and away, like the odors of sunset, 
That sweeten the twilight as darkness corner 
on; 

80 be my life, — a thing felt but not noticed, 
And I but remembered by what I have done. 

Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in freshness, 
When the flowers that it came from are closed 
up and gene ; 



r'l 



ft^ 



82 Tiri: x:VERLASTING MEMORIAL. 

So would I be to this world's weary dwellers, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

N'eeds there the praise of the love- written record. 

The name and the epitaph graved on the stone \ 

The things we have lived for, — let them be our 

story, 

We ourselves but remembered by what we have 

done. 

I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing 
(As its Summer and Autumn moved silently on) 

The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its season ; 
I shall still be remembered by what I have done. 

I need not be missed, if another succeed me, 
To reap down those fields which in Spring 1 
have sown ; 
lie who plowed and who sowed is not missed by 
the reaper, 
He is only remembered by what he has done. 

Not myself, but the truth that in life I have 
spoken. 
Not myself, but the seed that in life I have 
sown, 
Shall pass on to ages,— all about me forgotten, 
Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have 
done. 



Tn 



^'-+ 



THE TWO VILLAGES. 93 

So let my lining be, so be my dying ; 

So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown ; 
Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be remem- 
bered ; 

Yes, — but remembered by wliat I have done. 

BONAU. 



TII£J TWO VILLAGES. ' 

OVER the river on the hill 
Lieth a village white and still ; 
All around it the forest-trees 
Shiver and whisper in the breeze ; 
Over it sailing shadows go 
Of soaring hawk and screaming crow, 
And mountain grasses, low and sweet, 
Grow in the middle of every street. 

Over the river under the hill 
Another village lieth still ; 
There I see in the cloudy night 
Twinkling stars of household light, 
Fires that gleam from the smithy's door, 
Mists that cm'l on the liver's shore ; 
And in the roads no grasses grow, 
For the wheels that hasten to and fro. 

In that village on the hill 
Never is sound of smithy or mill 



_J 



B4 If^Ji: WAYSIDl'J WaTCII'lE. 



The houses are thatched with grass and flew era, 

Never a clock to tell the hours ; 

The marble doors are always shut ; 

You raay not enter at hall or hut • 

All the village lie asleep ; 

Never a grain to sow or reap ; 

Never in dreams to moan or sigh, 

Silent, and idle, and low they lie. 

In that village under the hill, 
When the night is starry and still, 
Many a weary soul in prayer 
Looks to the other village there, 
And weeping and sighing, longs to go 
Up to that home, from this below ; 
Longs to sleep by the forest wild, 
Whither have vanished wife and child. 
And heareth, praying, this answer fall— 
" Patience ! that village shall hold ye all I" 



THE WAYSIDE WATCHEE. 

U A LL the day you sit here idle, 
A. And the Master at the door I 

The fields are white to harvest. 
And our labor almost o'er. 

You are di-eaming, you are dreaming J 
Time is gliding fast away ; 



TjIE wayside watcher. 5») 

See ! the eventide is waning, 
Soon shall break eternal day." 

" Brother, my hand is feeble, 

My streugth is well-nigh spent : 
I saw you all at noon-day. 

And I marked the way ye went 
I cried, ' God's blessing on them, 

What a favored band they be I 
But I'll watch upon the highway, 

God may find a work for me.' '^ 

" Yet you taiTy, yet you tarr/," 

Said the laborer again, 
*' You may idle on the highway, 

And wait all day in vain. 
'Tis easy labor ' waiting ;' 

On the dusty road we tread 
To toil within the vineyard : 

Go out and work instead." 

The watcher smiled and answered, 

" My brother, is it so ? 
Who waiteth on the Master, 

The Master's will shall know. 
He hath taught me one sweet lesson, 

I have learnt it not too late, 
There is service for the feeblest 

That only stand and wa\t." 



4q-, 



ri 



8(J TEE WAYSIDE WATCHER, 

I sat me by the hedge-row, 

No burden could I bear, 
But I often thought, how bless6d 

In 'the field to have a share ! 
The loving Master whispered, 

Through the often lonely day, 
" Still wait on Me, thou weak one^ 

The lame shall take the prey." 

Not long I tarried watching : 

A wayfarer drew nigh. 
He was weary, sad, and hungry, 

For the glowing sun was high. 
His foot lagged faint and fainter, 

His eyes were downward cast ; 
That laborer by my lattice 

At early morn had passed. 

I drew him 'neath the trellis 

Of the vine's inviting shade, 
Down by the soft green pasture 

Our Shepherd's love hath madeu 
I fetched him from the streamlet 

Fresh water for his feet, 
I spread the bread before him, 

And bade him rest and eat. 

He bathed in the bright fountain, 
And then refreshed and stronjr. 



^ s^ 



THE WAYSIDE WATCnER, 87 

He journeyed on rejoicing : 

You could hear his happy son^, 

Where, on the dusty wayside, 
The traveler had been, 

Stood One, in heavenly beauty. 
With more than regal mien. 

" I thank thee," said the Stranger, 

" For all thy cares afford. 
For rest, and food, and welcorae. 

Beside thy simple board." 
'' Nay, Lord," I said, '' what succor 

Have I bestowed on Thee ?" 
" Thy service to my servant 

Hath all been done to Me." 

Oh, it was well worth watching, 

A Summer's day alone ; 
Well worth the weary waiting. 

To hear His sweet '• Well done !" 
Is it too small a matter. 

That in man's foolish pride 
He scorns one heart to gladden 

For which the Saviour died ? 

Oh, ever blessed Master ! 

The harvest-field is fair, 
And Thou hast better servants. 

Than Thy weal^: one, eveiywhere. 



^ 




88 THE WAYSIDE WATCHER. 



a 



Thou never hast forsaken 
One waiting by the way ; 

Still meet me with a promise, 

That the lame shtill take the prey. 

From the tangled thicket near me 

I heard a mournful cry ; 
A little child had wandered 

From the sunny path hard by ; 
His hands were torn with biiers, 

His hot tears fell like rain ; 
And he wept, lest he should never 

See his father's face again. 

Close to my heart I drew him. 

And pointed to the sky ; 
I showed him how the dark clouda. 

So slowly sailing by, 
But veiled the bright sun's radiance 

From valley and from hill ; 
For the faithful sun was shining 

lu all his glory still ! 

He ceased to weep, and listened ; 

I soothed his childish woe ; 
Then on the way I led him. 

And soon beheld him go 



i 



THE WAYSIDE WATCHER. gS 



Back througli tlie green fields singing s 

Sweet was the joyful sound, 
That told the father's welcome, 

And the little wanderer found I 

Then on the highway, near mc, 

I saw the Stranger stand — 
Stranger no more ! He guided 

The fair child by the hand. 
" I thank thee," said He softly, 

" Thou hast not watched in vain ; 
Behold my child returned 

Safe to my arms again." 

What grace is Thine, O Master I 

For work so poor and scant ; 
How glorious is the guerdon 

My loving Lord doth grant I 
I only saw a nursling 

Was wandering astray : 
Oh, it is worth cross-bearing 

To wait for Thse one day ! 

Have ye known the shadovfs darken 

On weaiy nights of pain, 
And hours that seem to lengthen 

Till the night comes round again i 

"TL—-^-^-- rip" 



4^ 



00 



THE WAYSIDE WATC'IIEH. 



^ 



Tlie folded bands seem idle : 

If folded at His word, 
'Tis a holy service, trust me, 

In obedience to tbe Lord. 

Ye know tbe joy of labor 

Within the busy field ; 
But there arc deeper pleasures 

A fliithfiil heart may yield. 
To willing ones that suffer, 

And listen at His fest, 
From the far-off land God givetlj 

The fruit of life to eat. 

Brief is my hour of labor : 

My Lord my lot hath cast ; 
He giyeth royal wages 

To the first-called as the last. 
1 have seen Him in His beauty, 

While waiting here alone — 
I know Him ever near me, 

For He cannot leave His own. 



^ 



None e'er shall lack a service, 
Who only seek His will ; 

And He doth teach His childreo 
To suffei and be still. 



f 



CAST D WK U UT NOT DESTIi O TEL ►. 9 1 ^ 



In love's deep fount of treasures 
Sucli precious things are stored, 

Laid up for you, O blessed 
That wait upon the Lord ! 

ANNA Snil'TON 



CAST DOWN BUT NOT LESTROYEJ). 

MUCH haye I borne, but not as I should bear ; 
The proud will unsubdued, the formal prayei 
Tell me Thou yet wilt chide, Thou canst not spare 

O Lord, Thy chastening rod ! 
O help me, Father ! for my rdnful heart 
Back from this discipline of grief would start, 
Unmindful of His sorer, deeper smart, 
Who died for me, my God ! 

Yet if each wish denied, each woe and pain. 
Break but some link of that oppressive chain 
AVhich binds us still to earth, and leaves a stain 

Thou only canst remove — 
Tiien am I blest — oh, bliss from man concealed I 
If here to Christ, the weak one's tower and shield, 
RIy heart tlirougli sorrow be set free to yield 

A. service of deep love. f. f. 



■^ 



02 ABO UXDIXG AV nOPE. 



^ 



ABO UXDIXG IX HOPE. 

HOPE, Christian soul ! in every stage 
Of tlais, thine earthly pilgrimage, 
Let heavenly joy thy thoughts engage — 
Abound in hope. 

Hope ! though thy lot be want and %voe, 
Though hate's rude storms against thee K :w, 
Thy Savioui-'s lot was such below — 
Abound in hope. 

Hope ! for to all who meekly bear 
His cross, He gives His crown to wear ; 
Abasement here is glory there — 
Abound in hope. 

Hope ! though thy dear ones round thee die. 
Behold with Faith's illumined eye 
Their deathless home beyond the sky-- 
Abound in hoj)e. 

Hope ! for upon that happy shore 
Sorrow and sighing will be o'er, 
And friends shall meet to part uo more- 
Abound ia hor.e. 



L_ 



C 



'HE GlVETn SONGS IN TEE NIOET:' 93 



Hope througli the TratcTies of the night : 
Hope till the morrow bring the light : 
Hope till thy faith be lost in sight — 
Abound in hope. 



HE GIVETH SONGS IN THE NIGHT." 

T1J"E praise Thee oft for hours of bliss, 
T ! For days of quiet rest ; 
But, oh, how seldom do we feel 
That pain and tears are best ! 



We praise Thee for the shining sun, 
For kind and gladsome ways : 

When shall we learn, O Lord ! to sing 
Through weary nights and days. 

We i^raise Thee when our path is plain 
And smooth beneath om' feet ; 

But fain would learn to welcome pain, 
And call the bitter sweet. 

When rises first the blush of hope, 
Our hearts begin to sing ; 



But surely not for this alone 
Should we our gladness bring. 



"^ rfi- 



^■' ^ 

94 '' HE GIVETIf SOXGii jy IIIE MG/rr," *— ' 

Are there no hours of ccuflict fierce. 

Ko weary toils and pains, 
No watchings, and no bitterness, 

That bring their blessed gains ? 

That bring their blessed gains full we._, 

In truer faith and love, 
And patience sweet, and gentleness, 

From our dear Home above ! 

Teach Thou our weak and wandering hearts 

Aright to read Thy way, — 
Tliat Thou with loving hand dost trace 

Our history every day. 

Then every thorny crown of care 

Worn well in patience now, 
Shall grow a glorious diadem 

Uj)on the faithful brow ; 

And every word of grief shall change 

And wave a blessed flovrer, 
And lift its face beneath our feet 

To bless us every hour ; 

And Sorrow's face shall be unveiled, 

And we at last shall see 
Her eyes are eyes of tenderness, 

Her speech but echoes Thee ! 

JOHN p.vjK aoiTft 



^ 



KEAi:£,bT AXD Dl'AICIJ^T. 93 



y BAREST AXD DEAREST. 

IT was the Sabbath's blessed evening hour, 
i And the dusk stillness of the fire-lit room 
Fell on the sj^irit with a soothing power, 

A spell of holy calm unmixed with gloom. 
The fire-light flickered upon steadfiist eyes, 

Brows where the Prince of Peace his seal had set, 
And tremulous lips where echoes of the skies. 

Most eloquent in silence, lingered yet. 

At length the musing of one heart found way ; 

" Oh, it is bliss !" she said, " to join the throng 
That fills God's temple on His holy day. 

With the full harmony of sacred song. 
Surely the soul draws nearest to Him there, 

And bows with holiest awe before His throne ; 
Surely the highest bliss of faith and prayer 

Is found within those sacred courts alone I" 

" Nay," said ancther, " not alone ! Our Lord 
Dwells not in temples made with hands. H& 
fills 

T];o ione heights of the everlasting hills, 

.Vnd dwells with all who tremble at His word ! 

iind I have felt His blcss^tl presence more, 

And ( \vnc<l wiMt lowlier awe its hallowim.j' swa:9 



^ 



J 



j:+ 



96 NEAREST AND DEAREST. '-— 

On the lone bill-side or the wave-washed shore, 
Than even in His house of prayer to-day." 

Then spake a third — " Oh, friends, full well I know 

The joys ye speak of; but one dearer far 
Comes to me often in the ceaseless flow 

Of week-day cares, amid earth's din and jar, 
When for a moment's breathing-time I pause, 

Saying, ' O Master, bless,' and lo ! the while, 
He stands beside me, and my spirit draws 

A heaven of rest, and gladness from His smile.'' 

She ceased, and then one answered yet again — 

" Yea, it is always bliss to feel Him near 
En crowd, or solitude, or sacred fane. 

But never is His presence half so dear 
As when the storms of sorrow o'er us meet, 

And we with bleeding heart and baffled will, 
Faint yet pursuing' struggle to His feet. 

And lay our souls before Him, and are still." 

Then all were silent, and my heart said^ " Yea. 

Thou hast well spoken, thou dost well to prize, 
Higher than any bliss beneath the skies. 

The faith that clings and trusts Him ' though He 
slay.' 
This is the one note in the song of praise, 

Roiling from all creation round the tluone, 

V- ^ 



n JiEP NOT FOR HER ! 97 



That only human liearts sore tried can raise, 
And even they in this brief life alone." A. 



WEEP KOT FOR HER! 

IlTP^Ei^ not for her, for she hath crossed the 
T f ilyer, 

We almost saw Him meet her on the shore, 
z\jid lead htr through the golden gates, where 
never 

Sorrow or death can enter any more. 

Weep not for her, that she hath reached before ua 
The safe, warm uhelter of her long-loved home ; 

Weep not for her, she may be bending o'er us, 
In quiet wonder when we too shall come. 

Weep not for her ; think how she may be kneeling 
Gazing her fill upon the Master's face ; 

A. loving, humble smile, but half revealing 
The perfect peace she feels in Mary's place. 

But weep for those round whom the fight is 
thronging, 
Who still must buckle heavy armour on, 
Who dare not pray for rest, though sore theil 
longing. 
Till all the weary work nig day be done. 




it 



4^ 



98 ^^' opiiy noon. 

And pray for tliem, that tliey, tbougL Sc.,l and 
lonely, 

May still witli patience bear tlie cross Ih sends. 
And learn that tears, and wounds, and losses, only 

Make peace tlie sweeter wli.a the warfare ends. 

B. 



AN OPEN DOOR. 

OH, never say that the door is shut 
To any watcher weary of sin I 
Thou knowest who said, and who says it still, 

" Ye weary and troubled to rest come in." 
\Ye may stand without till He sajs, '' Too late," 
Gut God's is never a fast shut gate. 

A.nd though wc have often refused to come, 
And chosen to wander alone in the night, 

He follows us home, and at our shut door 
He knocks, and offers us love tmd light ; 

And He says to each, " Thou rebellious child, 

1 beseech thee this night to be reconciled I" 

And we answer, " O Christ ! it is cold and dark, 
Aod I long to be warm, and safe, and free. 

But Satan has bound me and locked the door. 
And he holds me back when I touch the key 

He told me once that my home was bright, 

But now I feel it is alwa5'S night." 

h^ ■ ^ 



r"^ ^.V OPEN DOOR. 99 

A.nd wc bear a Voice, though the door is shut, 
! We can catch the words though the wind is high, 

! A.S the Holy Spirit unlocks the door, 

i And Jesus enters and says, '* 'Tis I !" 

I And straightv/ay our fetters broken fall. 

I And we know that our Saviour has done it all. 

Then never say that his door is shut — 
He loved us before we had heard his name ; 

rie offered us joardon, and hope, and Heaven, 
And if ice refused it, is Christ to blame ? 

If in unbelief we shut the gate, 

Can wc say that Christ has made us wait ? 

And He knew wc were cold and hungiy too, 
So He begged us to come, and be warmed, and 
fed, 
But we passed, and knocked at another door, 
Ajid they gave us a stone when we asked for 
bread ; 
Yet we said, " No, Lord ! we will keej) our sin, 
Though Thy door is wide, and there's joy within." 

I3ut lie waited still, though we passed Him by ; 

And when all false lights had grovrn dim He 
came — 
He made us willing to hear His voice, 

And 'twas He that taught us to love His name ; 



"^1 



jX 



-i-ir" — 1±. 

J 00 " SORRO WJNG YET RKJOICiyQ:' 

And He brings a light that no shade can dim, 
When He dwells in us, and we in Him. a ^^ 



SORROWING YET ALWAYS REJOICL^G. 

'V[0 sorrow is immingTed here, 
iS. But still, in every bitter cup 

Is found the sweet ingredient, hope : 
Who deepest diinks shall find it there. 

Shall find it when he needs it most ; 

For when the night doth darkest grow, 

Darkness above, all dark below, 
Ajid faith and hope are all but lost, 

How oft a gleam of glory sent 

Straight through the deepest, darkest night, 
Has filled the soul with heavenly light, 

With holy peace and sweet content ! 

Content to wait t\\ii will of God, 
To cast on Him the heavy load, 
To walk with Him the weary road 

With patience, leaning on the Lord. 



Content to suftbr and be still, 

Without complaining bear the ci-oss, 



r.z 



h r 



H 



" SOEKO WIXG YET EEJOWLXGr iq) ^ 

Endure the i:)am, accept the loss, 
Of all eai-th's treasures, if God will. 



Cooteut to learn by suffering long. 

In darkness still to keep the fliith ; 

Still trusting what the Saviour saitii. 
That perfect weakness may be strong. 

Content to follow where He trod, 
The Man of griefs who came to lead, 
Themselves, like Him, all perfected 

Through suffering, many sons to God. 



Yes ! there was one, and only one, 

Unmingled cup of bitterness ; 

But God, who pitied our distress, 
Gave it to His beloved Son. 

He drank it with the bitter cry, 
" O Father ! if it so may be, 
I pray Thee let it pass from Me ; 

Yet be it as Thou wilt, not I." 

Hadst thou, my soul, been there alone. 
Thou couldst not, if, like Him oppressed, 
That cup had to thy lips l;een pr(?sscd. 

Have said with Him, '^Tbv vill be donr- 1" 

0* 




+-^ 



^ 



102 '' SORROWIXG YET EEJOlCiyo.'^ 



Yet from that cnp all sweetness flowfl, 
All joy of life, all hope of heayen, 
All grace and consolation given 

To sufferers in a world of woes. 



Yes I and to Ilim who drank that cup 
In meek submission, though untold 
Its agony ; who can unfold 

Its sweetness now, as lifted up 

Far above powers of Earth or Heaven, 
lie sees the fruit His angiL sh bore ; 
He sees the world all dead before, 

Live in the life He thus hath given t 

And ever as the ages glide 

His tide of joy shall onward roll, 
Till He the travail of His soul 

Shall see, and shall be satisfied. 

So every bitter cup of woe 
Shall yield a blessing at the. last, 
And when the bitterness is past, 

With living sweetness overflow. 



ith 



E. N. G 







4- 



WAITING FOR SPRIKG. io3 



WAITIXG FOR .SPRLVG. 

\\fAJTmG for SpriDg ! The mother, watcliino 
T T louely 

By her sick child when all the uight is dumb, 
ilcaring no sound save his hoarse breathing oulv, 
Saith, " He will rally when the Spring-daya 
come." 

Waiting for Spring ! Ah, me, all natm-e tarries 

As motionless and cold she lies asleep, 
Wrapt in her green pine robe that never varies. 

Wearing out Winter by this southern deep. 

The tints are too unbroken on the bosom 
Of those great woods ; we want some light- 
green shoots ; 

We want the white and red acacia, blossom, 
The blue life hid in all these russet roots. 

Waiting for Spring ! The hoai'ts of men are 
watching 

Each for some better, brighter, fairer thing I 
Each ear a distant sound most sweet is catching, 

A herald of the beauty of his si)ring. 

Waiting for Spring I The nations in their ang'.-r 
Or dea,llier toqioi wra^^t, look coward, still 

^1 ^ rft 



4JJ d^ 

"^ 104 WAIThVG FOR SPRING. ^^ 

Feel a far liopc tlu-ougli all their strife and languoi. 
And better spirits in them throb and thrill. 

Waiting for Spring I Christians are waiting over, 
Body and soul by sin and pain bowed down ; 

Look for the time wlien all these clouds shall sever, 
See high above the cross a flowery crown. 

Waiting for Spring ! Poor herirts I how oft ye 
weary 

Looking for better things, and grieving much 1 
Earth lieth still, though all her bowers be dreary; 

She trusts her God, nor thrills but at His touch. 

It must be so— the man, the soul, the nation, 
The mother by her child — we wait, we wait, 

Dreaming out futures ; life is expectation, 
A grub, a root that holds our higher state. 

\Yaiting for Spring— the germ for its perfection, 
Earth for all charms by light and color given, 

The body for its robe of resun'cction, 
Souls for their Saviour,Christians for our Ileavcu. 
Cecil Fjiaxcis Alexandeu. 



-f- 



-^ 



^ WAITIXG FOE VIIKISI. ,105 



WAITING FOR CHRIST. 

^17E wait for Thee, all glorioua One ! 
I f We look for Thine appearing , 
We bear Thy name, and on the throne 
We see Thy presence cheering. 
Faith even now 
Uplifts its brow, 
And sees the Lord descending, 
And with Him bliss unending. 

We wait for Thee through days forlorn, 

la i^atient self-denial ; 
■^7e know that Thou our guilt hath borne 
Upon Thy cross of trial. 
And well may we 
Submit with Thee 
To bear the cross and love it, 
Until Thy hand remove it. 

N'e wait for Thee ; already Thou 
Hast all our hearts' submission ; 
A.nd though the spirit sees Thee now 
We long I'jr 5]pen vision ; 
When ours shall be 
Sweet rest with Thee 
And pure, unfading pleasure, 
And life in endless measure. 



^ 



4 



|— ^ lOG TRUST AI^D li EST 

Wii wait for Thee witli certain Lope— 

The time will soon be over ; 
Wiih childish longing we look up 
Thy glory to discoyer. 
O bliss ! to share 
Thy triumph there, 
Wlicn home, with joy and singing, 
The Lord his saints is bringing. 

Vnom THE GERMAN OF IIIJ^LEIl. 



4r 




TRUST AXD REST. 

"jHRET not, poor soul ; while doubt and fear 
X Disturb thy l:>rcast, 

The pitying angels, who can see 
How vain thy wild regret must be, 



Plan not, nor scheme, but calmly wait ; 

His choice is best ; 
While blind and erring is thy sight, 
His wisdom sees and judges right. 

So trust and rest. 

Strive not. nor struggle ; thy poor might 

Can never wi'est 
The meanest thing to serve thy will ; 
All power is His alone ; be still, 

And trust and rest. 



r 



THE HOUSE OF GOD. 



J>esire uot ; self-love is strong 

Witliin tliy breast ; 
Aacl yet He loves tliec better still, 
So let Him do His lovino- will, 

And trust and rest. 

\Vliat dost thou fear ? His wisdom reigns 

Supreme, confessed ; 
His power is infinite ; His love 
Tliy dcejiest, fondest dreams above. 

So trust and rest. 








THE HOUSE OF GOD. 

KCE slow and sad tlic evening fell 

On desert path, on lonely dell, 
As, sad and desolate. 
One laid liim down to sleep alone, 
His couch the sand, his pillow stone. 
The moming-tide to wait. 

But gleamed before his dazzled sight 
A radiance more than morning light. 

From opened portals given ; 
And on his chaiTiicd car there rung 
A sound more sweet than matin song- 

The choral hymns of Heaven. 



:n 



T 



J:j 



I 03 THE no USE OF GOD 



4± 



IIo saw the glory of that jDlace, 
AVhose h'ght is God the Saviour's faco. 

He sa\T its dwellers fair ; 
And leamt that— desolate, alone, 
A wanderer from his Father's home,— 

God's presence still was there. 

So we (though often worn, oppressed, 
We wander, seeking home and rest) 

In sorrow's darkest hour 
May see, as Jacob saw of old, 
God's sunbeams bright and manifold, 

The shades of night o'erpower. 

For not in temple hoar alone. 

In cloistered shade, 'neath sculptured sione, 

Stands now God's house below ; 
But whensoe'er His radiance bright 
Gleams on our darkness and 'tis light, 

Plis presence we may know. 

Transfigured in His Gloiy^fair 

The whole earth stands, one house of prayer- 
One ante-room of Heaven ; 

For surely, though we know it not, 

Gjcl's presence is in every spot, 
To those who seek it -xivcn. 

^ rf 



J 



THE JUDGMENT- SEAT. lOQ 






TbcD let us strive, and work, and wait, 
A.S those who see that opened gate — 

Til at glory in our night ; 
So that at last, through Christ the way, 
We, too, may tread that land of day. 

Where God, tlie Lord, is light. 

L. E. 



THE CHILD ON THE JUDGMENT.SEAT. 

I, y HERE hast been toiling all day, sweet-hcaxt, 
? y That thy brow is burdened and sad ? 
The Master's work may make weary feet, 
But it leaves the spmt glad. 

Was thy garden nipped with the midnight frost, 

Or scorched with the mid-day glare ? 
Were thy vines laid low, or thy lilies crushed, 

That thy face is so full of care ? 

" No pleasant garden-toils were mine ! — 

I have sate oa the judgment-seat, 
Where the Master sits at eve and calls 

The children aroimd His feet." 

How earnest thou on the judgment-seat, 

Sweet-heart ? Who set thee there ? 
Tis a lonely and lofty seat for thee, 

And well might fill thee with care. | 

^1 '—1 rfi 



->p ■ — ^ 

" I climbed on the judgment-seat myself, 

I have sate there alone all day, 
For it gT.eved me to see the children around 

Tdluig their life avray. 

" They vrasted the Master's precious seed, 

They wasted the precious hours ; 
They trained not the vines, nor gathered the fruit?, 

And they trampled the sweet, mGcls flowers." 

A.nd what hast thou done on tlic judgmeut-seat, 

Sweet-heart ? What didst thou there ? 
Would the idlers heed thy childish voice ? 

Did the garden mend by thy care ? 

" Is"ay, that grieved mc more ! I called and I cried 

But they left me there forlorn ; 
My voice was weak, and they heeded not. 

Or they laughed my words to scorn." 

AJi, the judgment-seat was not for thee ! 

The servants were not thine ! 
Ajid the eyes which adjudge the praise and tlit 
blame, 

See further than thine or mine, 

Tlie Voice that shall sound there at eve, sweet 
heart, 
Will not raise its tones to be bear<l, 



^ 



4^ ~Tt+ 

pJ THE JUDGMENT-SEAT. \\l L, 

It will hush the earth, and hush the hearts, 
And none will resist its word. 

"* Should I see the Master's treasures lost, 

The stores that should feed His f)Oor, 
And not lift my voice, be it weak as it raay, 

And not be grieved sore V 

Wait till the evening falls, sweet heart. 

Wait till the evening falls ; 
The Master is near and knoweth all, 

Wait till the Master calls. 

But bow fared thy garden-plot, sweet heart. 

Whilst thou sat'st on the judgment-seat ; 
Who watered thy roses and trained thy vines, 

And kept them from careless feet ? 

•' Nay, that is saddest of all to me ! 

That is sad lest of all! 
My vines are trailing, my roses are parched, 

My lilies droop and fall." 

(jro back to thy garden-plot, sweet heart ! 

Go back till the evening falls ! 
And bind thy lilies, and train thy vinng, 

Till for thee the Master calls. 



k 



i^- 



112 A'OW / LA r ME D WN TO SL EEP, 

Go make thy garden fair as tlioii canst, 

Thou workest never alone, 
Perchance he whose j^lot is next to thine 

Will see it, and mend his own. 

^d Ihe next may copy his, sweet heart, 

Till all grows lair and sweet, 
A.nd when the Master comes at eve, 

Happy faces His coming will greet. 

Tlicn shall thy joy be full, sweet heart. 

In the garden so fair to see, 
Tn the Master's words of praise for all, 

In a look of His own for thee ! 

AUTHOR OF " THE THllEE WAKINGS.'' 



^± 



NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. 

IN the quiet nursery chambers. 
Snowy pillows yet unpressed, 
Sec the forms of little children 

Kneeling, white-robed, for their rest, 
All in quiet nurseiy cliambers. 

While the dusky shadows creep, 
Hear the voices of the children — 
• N4>w I lav mo down to sIccd." 

^3n ^ 



,sr 



NO W I LA r ME IPO \VN TO s: KFA\ \ \ 8 

In the meadow and the mountain 

Calmly sliine the winter stars, 
But across the glistening lowlands 

Slants the moonlight's silver bars 
In the silence and the darkness, 

Darkness growing still more deep, 
Listen to the little children 

Praying God theii' souls tc keep. 

" If we die " — so pray the children, 

And the mother's head drops low ; 
(One from out her fold is ^sleeping 

Deep beneath the winter's snow) ; 
" Take our souls :" and jDast the casement 

Flits a gleam of crystal light. 
Like the trailing of his garments, 

Walking evennore in white. 

Little souls that stand expectant. 

Listen at the gates of life ; 
Hearing, faraway, the murmur 

Of the tumult and the strife : 
We, who fight beneath those banners, 

fleeting ranks of foemen there, 
Find a deeper, broader meaning 

lu your simple vesper prayer. 

When your hands shall grasp this standard, 
Wliich to-day you watch from far, 
10* 



"^ 



^ 



^ 4+ 

114 TUB LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 

Wlien your deeds sliall sliape tlie conflict 

In this universal war, 
Pray to Him, tlie God of battles, 

Whose strong eye can never sleep. 
In the warring of temptation, 

Firm and true your souls to keep. 

When the combat ends, and slowly 

Clears the smoke from out the skies, 
Then, far down the purple distance, 

All the noise of battle dies. 
When the last night's solemn shadows 

Settle dov.n on you and me, 
May the love that never faileth 

Take our souls eternally. 



I. 
THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 

PAINTED BY HOLMAN imXT. 

IN tlic moonlight, when no murmur from the 
haunts of men is heard, 
And the river in its sleep flows onward, onward 

to the sea, 
Ard thou sleepest, who art drawing nearer to 

Eternity, 
[n the silence and the stillness comes tlie Word. 

^ ■ ^ 



THE LIGHT OP THE WORLD. US 

A.ad lie kuocketli at tliy portal, but tliou dreara- 

est in the niglit 
That the flitting bat is only striking softly 'gainsJ 

tlie door ; 
Shall He knock so oft who cometh from tlic Hear 

en's eternal shore ? 
Sleeper in the darkness, rise, behold thy Liglit I 

'Tis thy Priest and Prophet, clad in jewelled robe 
white attire ;- 

Tis thy King, and on His brow He wears the 
thorny coronal, 

Budding now with amaranthine leaves and flow- 
ers ambrosial, 

!n His face is speaking pity, silent ire. 

Por His glowing lamp discioseth, choking up thy 

dwelling door. 
Deadly hemlock, barren darnel, prickly Irramblc, 

withered grasses, 
And the i\'y knits it closely to its stanchious and 

passes 



Let Kim in ! for He will sojourn with the lowest 

and the least, 
And forget that thou didst keep Him waiting Id 

the dews i*nd damp, 



-Hi 



irs- 

-" ilG THE LiaUT OF TEE WORLD. 

And for guerdon in tbe valley He will ligbt thee 

witn His lamp 
To the happy Shore Eternal and the Marriage 

Feast. 

c. A., Brasenosc College^ Oxford. 



II. 

THE LIGHT OF THH WORLD. 

LORD, Thou hast sought this wayward heart in 
Tain ; 
Choked by the world's vile weeds its jDoi-tah 

stand, 
Closed to the touch of Thy redeeming Hand, 

Which, knocking gently, would an entrance gain ; 

Oh, Love unspeakable ! that Thou shouldst be 
Patient amidst the night's chill falling dews, 
While I Thy proifered fellowship refuse, 

Slothful to rise and ope the door to Thee ! 

Long have I tarried, dreading yet to bear 
The emblems of Thy suffering, thorns and cross 
Lost in idolatiy of Mammon's dross. 

And lured by pleasure's transitory glare ; 

Henceforth vouchsafe to shed Thy light within 
Elume my soul, and let these contrite tears 
Blot out all record of my mis-spent years. 

Dark with the sad rememl^rances of sin ; 

Then, in this pmified, repentant breast, 

Enter, and be for evermore my Guest ! 

W, R. WEALS 



^ 



JT- 



r— J TTP- r rr A r,v nv m^ 1 1 ». *— ^ 



H 



!T£ LEADS US ON. j ] ij 



HE LEADS US OK. 

E leads us on, 
By i^atlis we did not know, 
Upward He leads us, tliougli our steps be slo.v. 
Though oft wc faint and falter on the way, 
Though storms and darkness oft obscure the day, 
Yet when the clouds arc gone 
We know lie leads us on. 

He leads us on 
Through all the unquiet years ; 
Past all our dreamland hopes, and doubts, and 

fears 
lie guides our ste2:>s. Through ali the tangled 

maze 
Of sin, of sorrow, and o'erclouded days 

ATe know His will is done ; 

And still He leads us on. 

And He, at last, 
A ftcr the weary strife — 
After the restless fever we call lile — 
After the di'cariness, the aching pain, 
The way^vard struggles which have proved in T^n. 

After our toils are i^ast — 

"Will give us rest at last. 



f 



118 JIOLY GLOST DISPEL OCR SJDS£SS 



HOLY GhOST DISPEL OUR SADXESS, 

HOLY GHOST, dispel our sadness, 
Pierce the clouds of sinful niglit ; 
Come, Tbou source of sweetest gladness, 

Breathe Thy Life, and sjDread Thy Light 
Loving Spirit, God of Peace ! 
Great Distributor of grace ! 
Rest upon this congregation. 
Hear, O hear our supplication ! 

From that height which knows no incasurfi, 

As a gracious shower descend 
Bringing down the ricliest treasure 

Men can wish, or God can send 1 
O Tliou Glory, shining down 
From the Father and the Son, 

Grant us Thy illumination ! 

Rest upon this congregation I 

Unown to Thee are all recesses 
Of the earth and spreading skies ; 

Every sand the shore possesses 
Thy Omniscient Mind descries. 

Iloly Fountain ! wash us clean 

Both from error and from sin ! 
Make us fly what Thou refusest. 
And delight in what Thou choopcst I 

4i ^ 



lt+ 



ON A FFLICTION. X\^ 



Manifest Tliy love forever ; 

Fence us in on every side ; 
In distress be our Reliever, 

Guard and teacli, support and guide I 
Let Tby kind effectual grace 
Turn our feet from evil ways ; 

Show Thyself our new Creator, 

And conform us to Thy nature ! 

Be our Friend on each occasion, 

God ! omnipotent to save ! 
When we die, be our salvation ; 

When we're buried, be our grave ! 
And, when from the grave we rise, 
Take us up above the sliies, 

Seat us with thy saints in gloiy. 

There forever to adore Tliee ! 

FROM THE GEPiMAN EY TOPLAHT, 



ON AFFLICTION. 

AS the haii^-strings only render 
. All their treasures of sweet sound— 
All their music, glnd or tender — 
Fii-mly struck and tightly bound : 

So the hearts of Christians owe 
Each itii deepest, sweetest strain, 

■qn _ rp" 



4±J - - 1±+ 

"^ 120 TKUST. ' — ■ 

To the jjrest^ure firm of woe, 
And the tension tight of pain 

Spices crushed theii pungence yield ; 

Trodden scents their sweets respire ; 
Would you have its strength revealed, 

Cast the incense in the fire : 

Thus the crushed and broken frame 

Oft doth swe-etest graces yield ; 
And through sufiering, toil, and shaiT><\ 
From the martj-r's keenest flame, 

Heavenly incense is distilled. 

AD Ail, OF ST. VI.'TOR 

t TRUST. 

THE child leans on its j)arent's breast, 
Leaves there its cares, and is at vest • 
The bird sits singing by its nest, 

And tells aloud 
His trust in God, and so is blest 
■Neath every cloud. 

He hath no store, he sows no seed, 
Yet sings aloud, and doth not need ; 
By flowing streams or grassy mead. 

He sings to shame 
Men, who forget, in fear of need, 

A Father's name. 

^ ff 



tWfisJ 



SUBMISSIOK. 



l21 [ 



The heart that trusts forever sings, 
And feels as light as it had wings ; 
A well of peace within it springs ; 

Come good or ill, 
Whate'er to-day, to-morrow brings, 

It is His will ! 

ISAAC WILLIAMS 



SUBMISSION. 

SINCE thy Father's arm sustains thee, 
Peaceful be ; 
When a chastening hand restrains thee, 

It is He ! 
Know His love in full completeness, 
Feel the measure of thy weakness ; 
If He wound thy spirit sore, 

Tnist Him more. 

Without mmTQm", uncomplaining, 

In His hand 
Leave whatever things thou canst not 

Understand ; 
Though the world thy folly spmiietb. 
From thy faith in pity turneth, 
Peace thy inmost soul shall fill. 

Lyiug still. 

^ "- \ ^ 



^ — ^ — ^ 

— ' 122 SUBMISSIOri. ^ 

Like an infant, if thou tliinkest 

Thou canst stanii, 
Childlike, proudly pushing back 

The prolTerDd hand ; 
Courage soon is changed to fear, 
Strength doth feebleness appear; 
In His love if thou abide, 

He will guide. 

Fearcst sometimes that thy Father 

Hath forgot ? 
Though the clouds around thee gather, 

Doubt Him not ! 
Always hath the daylight broken, 
Always hath He comfort sjDoken ; 
Better hath He been for years 

Than thy fears. 

Therefore, whatsoe'er betideth, 

Kight or day, 
Know His Iotc for thee provideth 

Good alway : 
Crown of sorrows gladly take, 
Grateful wear it, for His sake ; 
Sweetly bending to His will, 

Lying still. 

To His own thy Saviour giveth 
Daily strength 




f 



IS Tins ALL? 123 




To each troubled soul that livcth 
Peace at length : 

"W'^akest lambs have largest share 

Of the tender Shepherd's care ; 

Ask Him not, then, " Tv'hcn V or " How T' 
Only bow ! 

8. D. CAETER 



IS THIS ALL! 

CfOlTE TIMES I catch sweet glmjms of His face. 

But that is all. 
Sometimes He looTiS on me and seems to smiie. 

But that is all. 
Sometimes he spealcs a 2>cssing word of feacc^ 

But that is all. 
Sometimes I thbik Iliear His lo-cing voice 

Upon me call. 



And is this all He meant when thus He spoke 

" Come unto me V 
Is there no deeijer, more enduring rest, 

In Him for thee ? 
Is tliere no steadier light for thee in HIui y 

Oh. come and see 1 



■^ 



I 




124 rs THI^ ALL^ 



Oh, come and see ! oh, look, and look agaia f 



Oh, taste His love, and see that it is good, 

Thou child of night. 
Oh, trust Uim, trust Him in his grace and power, 

Then all is bright ! 

Ixay, do not wrong Him by thy heavy thoughts, 

But love His love ! 
Do thou fall justice to His tenderness, 

His mercy pi-ove ; 
Take Him for what He is ; oh, take Him all, 

And look above ! 

Then shall thy tossing soul £nd anchorage 

And steadfast peace ; 
Thy love shall rest on His ; thy weary doubts 

Forever cease. 
Thy heart shall find in Him, and in His grace, 

Its rest and bliss. 

Chi-ist and His love shall be thy blessC-d all 

For evermore ! 
Christ and His light shall shine on all thy ways 

For evermore ! 
Chr'at and His peace shall keep thy troubled soin 

For evermore ! 



BONAR 



^ 



»— ' OPEN THOU OUR EYES. i25 ^ 



OPEN THOU OUR EYES. 

4 ND He drew near and talked with tliem, 
IjL But they perceived Him not ; 
And mom-ned, UDConscious of that light— 
The gloom, the darkness, and the night, 
That wrapt His bmial spot. 

Wearied with doubt, jDeri^lexcd and sad, 

They knew nor help, nor guide, 
WTiile He who bore the secret key 
To open every mystery, 

Unknown was by their side. 

Thus often when we feel alone, 

No help nor comfort near, 
'Tis only that our eyes are dim ; 
Doubting and sad, we see not Him 

Who waiteth still to hear. 

" The darkness gathers overhead, 

The mom will never come !" 
Did we but raise our downcast eyea. 
in the wide-flushing eastern skies 

Appears the glowing sun. 

in all our daily joys and griefs 
In daily work and rest, 

4^ 4- 



Jj — ^ ■ ^ 

— ' 126 SHADOW.^- OF THE FAST, *— i 

To those who seek Hira, Christ is near, 
Our bliss to calm, to soothe our care, 
In leaning ou our breast. 

02)en our eyes, O Lord, we pray. 

To see oiu* way, our Guide ; 
That by the path that here w^e tread, 
We, following on, may still be led 

In Thy light to abide. r,. R. 



SHADOWS OF TIIF FAST. 

I' ORD,while the shadows of the past suryeying- • 
1J And they are many since life's early mom : 
Life's shadowy days have had a long delaying. 
It matters not, since they are past and gone — 
i\j-e past and gone. 

I find my steps are upward slowly tending. 
That falls the glory of thy smile upon 

The golden flights of steps to heayen ascending. 
And I am journeying slowly toward the dawn - 
Toward the dawn. 

I find my future m this world of sorrows 
Answers my prayers, and golden visions ope 

Of providences in the bright to-morrows. 
Fulfilling prayer ; this is my only hope- - 
My only hope. 



-* — ~ ~4+ 

' I A PRAYER FOR YOU. 12? [J 

This pleasing Lope my weaiy heart inspires, 
For I have prayed, and in Thy "Word 'tis writ, 

That th^3y who to give Thee their warm desires, 
Shall walk the ways that they to Thee commit- 
To Thee commit. 



A PRAYER FOR YOU. 

I HAVE a Saviom- — He's pleading in glory — 
So precious, though earthly enjoyments be few ; 
And now He's watching in tenderness o'er me ; 
But, oh, that my Saviour w^as your Saviour too ! 
For you I am praying — I'm praying for you I 

[ have a Father— to me He has given 
A hope for eternity, precious and true ; 

And soon will my spirit be with Him iu heaven ; 
But, oh, that He'd let me bring you with me too ! 
For you I am praying — I'm praying for you ! 

[ have a Crown, and I'll wear it forever, 
Encircled with jewels of heavenly hue ; 

'Twas purchased by Jesus, my glorified Saviour ; 
But. oh, could I know one was purchased for 

you! 
For you I am praying — I'm prajTJig lor you 1 

I have a Robe — 'tis resplendent in whiteness - 

Awaiting in glory my wondering view : 
01). when I'll receive it, all shining in l-;ngti1ness, 



4i 



J 



j:: 



+^ 



|-~J 128 A PRAYER FOR YOU. Hj 

Dear friend, could I see you receiving one too I 
For you I am praying — I'm jDraying for you ! 

\ Lave a Rest— and the earnest is given — 
Tliougb now, for a time, 'tis concealed from my 
view; 
Tliis life everlasting, 'tis Jesus, 'tis heaven ; 

And, oh, dearest friend, let me meet you there 

too I 
For you I am praying— I'm praying for you I 

I have a Peace, and it's calm as a river — 

A peace that the friend of the world never 
knew ;. 

My Saviour alone is its Author and Giver ; 
But, oh, could I know it was given to you I 
For you I am praying — I'm praying for you ! 

For you I am praying— for you I am praying ! 
For you I am praying — for you, yes, for you i 

And soon shall I hear you rejoicing and saj-ing : 
" Your dear, loving Saviour is my Saviour too V' 
And prayer will be answered for you — yes, for 
you ! 

And when lie has found you, tell others the story, 

How Jesus extended His mercy to you ; 
Then point then^ away to the regions of glory, 

^ ■ n0 



? 



HEAR MY CRY! 129 

And pray that your Saviour may bring them 

there too I 
For prayer will be answered — 'twas answered 

for you I 

Oh, speak of that Sayiour, that Father in heaven ; 

That Harp, Crown, ana Robe which are waiting 

for you 1 

That Peace you possess, and that Kest to be given I 

Still praying that Jesus may save them like you ; 

And prayer will be .".nswered — 'twas answered 

for you ! 

Christian Witness^ 



1% 



HEAR MY CRY! 

STRONG to save and bless, 
My rock and righteousness 
Draw near to me I 
Blessing, and joy, and might, 
Wisdom, and love, and liglft 
Ai'e all with Thee ! 

My rciuge and my rest. 

As child on mother's breast, 

I lean ou Thee ! 
From faintncss and from fear, 
"^licn foes and ill arc near, 

Deliver nic I 



^ 



4t 



jgO HEAR Mi CRY! 

Turn not away Thy face, 
Witliliold not needed grace, 

My fortress be ! 
Perils are round and round, 
Iniquities abound — 

See, Saviour, sec ! 

Come, God and Saviour, come • 
I can no more be dumb ; 

Appeal I must 
To Thee, the Gracious One, 
Else is my hope all gone, 

I sink in dust ! 

Oh, answer me, my God, 
Thy love is deep and broad. 

Thy grace is true ! 
Thousands this grace have shared 
Oh, let me noio be heard. 

Oh, love me too ! 

Descend, Thou mighty love, 
Descend from heaven above, 

Fill Thou this soul ! 
Ileal every bruised part, 
Bind up this broken heart, 

And make me whole. I 

in Z_ nf^ 



FRUITLESS TOIL. 131 



^ 



'Tis knowing Tlice that lieals ; 
'Tis Gceing Thee that seals 

Comfort and peace ! 
Show me Thy cross and blood, 
My Sa\TLOiir and my God, 

Ther. troubles cease. 



J^RUITLESS TOIL. 



i; 



And still unblessed my hand ; 
Yet I will launch into the deep 
Once more at Thy command. 

■' I hear triumphant songs 

Swell from the banks around. 
Each answering each with joyful cry 
Bat /no spoil have folmd. 

•' Fruitless is all my toil, 

Through lo^ig night-watches past, 
Islj heart is sick with hope deferred ; 
But Thou art come at last." 

The fisher's hands hung down ; 

Dull was his heart, and faint, 
When a heayenly voice the silence broke, 

And answered his complaint. 



^ 



4' ' 

132 FKUlTLES.y TOIL. 

" When have I left tlice, son, 

Tliat thou shouldst droop with fear ? 
Wlien hast thou sought my sympatliy, 
And hast not found Me near '<■. 

"Kot fruitless is thy toil. 

If thou my cross •wouldst bear ; 
I do but asli thy willing heart 
To grave my image there. 

•* For each net vainly cast 

Stronger thine arm will i^rove ; 
The trial of thy patient hope 
Is witness of Thy love. 

" The time, the place, the way 
Ai'e open to mine eye ; 
T sent thee— not to gather spoil — 
To labor patiently. 

" My son ! was not thy cry, 
' Inci\3ase my faith, O Lord ! 
More of Thyself, and more like Thcs 
Behold, thy prayer is heard. 

" Oh,, trust Me with thy crown, 
'Tis hidden safe with Me ; 
A little while, and where I am, 
There shall my servant be. 



% 



f 



J:i ^ 

* THE TWO WORLDS, 133 *""• 

*' Briglit seems thy brotlier's lot ; 
But, cliild, is thine so dim ? 
The King, tliy Friend, hath asTced of thee 
To watch one hour icith Him !" 

AKXA SUIPTON. 



THE TWO WORLDS. 

TWO worlds there are. To one our eyes wc strai n, 
Whose magic joys we shall not see again ; 
Bright haze of morning yells its glimmering 
shore ; 
Ah, truly breathed we there 
Intoxicating ail - 
Gl;id were our heaiis in that bwest realm of 
NcYcrmore. 

'i'he lover there drank her delicious breatli, 
Whose love has yielded since to change or dcat]! ; 
The mother Idssed her child whose days are o'^r 
Alas I too soon have fled 
The irreclaimable dead : 
W^c see them — -visions strange — amid the 
ISTevermore. 



The meny so:ig some maiden used to slug — 
Tlie browu^ brovv'n hair that once \yas wrnt 
clirjg 
V2 





4- 



'J 



^ 



ia4 THE TWO WOELDS. 



tf 



To temples long cJ ay-cold : to tlic Tcrj core 
Tliey strike our weary lieaits, 
As some vcsed memory starts 

From that long faded land — the realm of 
ISTevcrmorc. 

It is perpetual summer tlicrs. But licre 
Sadly we may remember rivers clear, 
And harebells quivering on the meadow-lloor, 
For brighter bells and bluer, 
For tenderer hearts and truer, 
People that happy land— the realm of 
Nevermore. 

rjjDon the frontier of this sliadovv'y land 
W'c pilgrims of eternal sorrow stand : 
AVljat realm lies forward, with its happier stv*re 
Of forests green and deep, 
Of valleys hushed in sleep. 
And lakes most peaceful ? 'Tis the land at* 
Evermore. 

Very far off its marl:)le cities seem — 
Very far off— beyond our sensual dream — 
Its woods, unruffled by the wild winds' roar ; 
Yet does the turbulent surge 
Kowl on its veiy verge. 
One moment — and we brea':he within the 
EveiTuorc. 



4^ 



THE T WO ANG ELS. \ 35 



They whom ^e loved and lost so long ago, 
Dwell in tliose cities, far from mortal woe — 
Haunt those fresh woodlands, whence swecl 
carolings soar. 
Eternal peace have they : 
God wipes their tears away : 
They drink that river of life which flows for 
Evermore. 

Thither we hasten through these regions dim, 
But lo ! the white wings of the Seraphim 
Shine in the sunset ! On that joyous shore 
Our lightened hearts shall know 
The life of long ago : 
The sorrow-bui'dened past shall fade for 
Evermore. 

Dublin JJiiiversity Magazine. 



THE TWO ANGELS. 

I'^WO angels, one of Life and one of Death, 

X Passed o'er our village as the morning broke ; 

The dawn was on their faces, and beneath 

The sombre houses hearsed with plumes of 
smoke. 

Their attitude and aspect were the same ; 
^.like their features, and their robes of while ; 



^ 13C TK-^ TWO ANGELS. 

But one was crowned with amaranth, as with 
flame, 
And one with asphodels, like flakes of light, 

I. saw them pause on their celestial way ; 

Then said I, with deep fear and doubt oppressel, 
" Beat not so loud, my heart, lest thou betray 

The place where thy beloved are at rest !" 

And he who wore the crowii of asphodels, 
Descending at my door, began to knock ; 

And my soul sank within me, as in wells 

The waters siuk before an earthquake's shock. 

I recognized the nameless agony. 

The terror, and the tremor, and the pain, 

That oft before had filled or haunted me. 

And now returned with threefold strength again. 

The door I opened to my heavenly guest. 

And listened, for I thought I heard God's voice ; 

And, knowing whatsoe'r He sent was best, 
Dared neither to lament nor to rejoice. 

Then with a sr^ile, that filled the house with light, 
" My errand is not Death, but Life," he said ; 

And, ere I answered, passing out of sight. 
On his celestial embassy he sped 



^ 




h 



4- 



7^ TH-FIi£ ^O BALM IN GILEAD? I37 



*Twa3 at thy door, O friend ! and not at mine, 
The angel with the amaranthine -wreath, 

Pausing, descended, and with voice divine, 

Whispered a word that had a sound like Deatlu 

Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, 
A shadow on those features fair and thin ; 

And softly from that hushed and darkened roora 
Two angels issued, where but one went in. 

All is of God ! If He but wave His hand, 

The mists collect, the rain falls thick and lou i. 
Till, with a smile of liglit on sea and land, 

Lo ! He looks back from the departing cloud- 
Angels of life and death alike are His ; 

"Without His leave they pass no threshold o'cj 
Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, 



f 



IS THERE NO BALM IiV GILEAD ? 

IS there no balm in Gilead, then ? is there no 
Healer nigh ? 
No freshening spring to cheer the waste so deso- 
late and dry ? 
Halh Hop3'3 dear vision vanished forever from 
thy sigh I, 

^ : rf 



138 i^ TJimiE NO BALM IN GILEAD T 



A^nrl darkness fallen around thee, the TC17 glcom 

of night ? 
A.nd seems thy soul forsaken, her eveiy Llefesing 

ll0T\T] 2 

N3 soothing' for her sorrow, and nowhere to make 

her moan ? 
Yet stay; the cross thou bearest thus hath first 

been borne for thee, 
Jesus Himself did hang thereon, thy life and curt; 

to be. 

For thine own ease He bare it all, — the scourge 

and piercing thorn. 
The nailing and the bruising, the denial, shame, 

and scorn ; 
Darkness and desolation deep, and pangs beyond 

thy thought, 
And all for thy soul's healing these sad agonies 

wei'e wrought. 
Upon His Cross He yearned for thee, for thee His 

heartstrings brake.; 
Himself of all forsaken. He could not thee forsake \ 
Then evermore, when chastenings sore thine inmost 

sphit wring, 
Say, My Belov'd is crucified, and I to Him will cling. 

How shall I sing Thy holy love, dear Passion of 

my Lord ? 
Of how Thy mystic virtue shall I worthily record ? 



I 



■t-n 



4^ 



IS THERE yo J AIM LY CflLEA D ? \ 30 




Thou art the spring of all our hope, the balsam 

of our woes, 
The solace of our yearnings, and the liower of 

our repose. 
True Paradise of all delights, since joy of grief 

is born ; 
For, as the flowers but close at night to ope more 

fresh with morn. 
So He who wept and bled for us, and bowed in 

earthly gloom, 
Now makes those sorrows our bnght bliss, those 

wounds our joyous home. 

Here is a covert from the storm, when winds and 

waves arise, 
A shadow in the scorching noon, a light in star 

less skies ; 
A staff ujDon the rugged road, a shield when foes 

assail, 
A charm Divine, against whose might no evil can 

prevail ; 
For v/here the Cross of Jesus is, is peace, and 

there alone. 
A.nd 'neath that banner of His love He g.-jtherctb 

His own ; 
And those who will be Christ's ninst not c'ei 

grudge their portion small, 
Who in His bitter chalice, once, and for lliec. 

drained it all. 



^ 



J 




140 ^S THERE ^O B^Lul LV GILEADf 



Tliou know'st He went not up to joy, but first 

He suffered pain, 
A.ud nil the self-same jiath must tread who thus 

His bliss would gain : 
[s aught too wearisome or hard for Jesas' sake to 

bear? 
V\'Tiilc He is croY.Tied with thorns wilt thou a 

crown of roses wear ? 
Lo ! this good Cross He offers thee ; it is thy very 

life ; 
Anoint with holy imctiou, it will aid thcc in the 

strife ; 
"fis hallowed by thy Saviour's touch, who hung 

on it for thee. 
And Love's sweet night shall make it light, and 

win the victory. 

Draw near, thou reft and drooping heart, drav> 

near and lift thy gaze 
To Him who yearns with outstretched aims the(: 

from thy grief to raise ; 
Draw near, and, clinging close beneath thy 3a 

viour's bleeding heart. 
Tell o'er each thi'ob of that deep woe in which 

thou hast a part ; 
Tall o'er each drop of dear iife-blood which ehba 

for thee so fast, 
And all thy weaiy heart-aching upon that tnie 

love cast - , 

^ ■ ^ 



+^ ^ , i 

C HEISTS -J ALL TO THE SOUL. in 

f n Jesus' Cross and Passion is tlie medicine of tliy 

soul, 
Yea, there is balm in Gilead, and a Healer to make 

thee whole. 

C. SELLON. 



CHRIST'S CALL TO THE SOUL. 

FAIIl soul, created in the primal hour, 
Once pure and grand, 
And for whose sake I left My throne and power 

At God's right hand ; 
By this sad heart pierced through ])ccause I loveC 

thee; 
Let love and mercy to contrition move thee. 

Cast off the sins thy holy beauty veiling, 

Spirit divine ! 
Vain against thee the hosts of hell assailing, 

My strength is thine ! 
Drink from My side the cup of life immortal, 
And love shall lead the path to heaven's portal, 

I for thy sake was i^ierccd with many sorrows, 

And bore the cross, 
Yet heeded not the galling of the arrows, 

The shame and loss. 
Bo faint not, then, whato'er the burden be, 
But ])8ar it bravely, even to Calvary. 

Savdnurola. 

^ r0- 



4r- it 

J 110 THEIR NAMES, L_ 



THEIR NAMES. 

SWEET thouglit, my God ! that on tlie palma 
Of Tliy most lioly hands 
Are graven all Thy peoples' names, 
Though countless as the sands. 

Not one too mean to have his place 

Amid that record blest, 
And if but there our names are found, 

We'll share the heavenly rest. 

How can we then yield to distrust, 

Or think we are forgot, 
While ever thus the care of One 

Who loves and changes not ? si. c 



W 



TWO buds plucked from the tree, 
Two birdies flown from the nest 
Two little darlings snatched 

From a fond mother's breast. 
Two little snow-white lambs 

Gone fi'om the sheltering fold, 
Two little narrow graves 
Down in the graveyard cold 



-qx np" 



4^ 4^ 

p-l •• TJir SHIELD A^D BUCKLERr 143 L, 

Tv/o little drooping flowers 

Growing in purer aii', 
Blooming fragrant and bright 

In the Gardener's care. 
Two little tender birds 

Flown far fi-om fear and harm, 
Two little snow-wliite lambs 

In tlie Good Shepherd's arm. 

Two little angels more 

Singing with voices sweet, 
Flinging their crowns of gold 

Down at theu- Savioui-'s feet. 
Free from all earthly care, 

Pure from all earthly stain, 
Oh, who could wish them back 

In this drear world again ? 

Chamlers' Journal 



n:S TRUTH SHALL BE THY SHIELD 
AND BUCKLER."* 

WHEN my sins in aspect dread 
Meet like waters o'er my head. 
Seen in light of God's own face, 
Darker for his offered grace — 
When I sigh for healing rest, 
By a l]0]>cless yoke opprest, 



V 



4 



i^ 



144 " Tlir SHIELD AND BUCKLER r 



^ 



Struggling in a grasp too strong, 

Borne as by a wind along — 

Then, I hear that Voice from Heaven, 

" Knock, and entrjince shall be giyen— 

Him that comes, whoe'er he be, 

I will never cast from Me I" 

When / come, with trembling heart, 

Will the Saviour say, " Depart ?" 

Shall I find His pardon free 

Is in wrath denied to me ? 

Is my guilt so deep in stain 

That the cleansing blood is vain ? 

" Heaven and earth shall pass away, 

Not My Words — " so Christ doth say 

In that hour, " His Truth shall be 

Shield and buckler unto thee." 

When the clouds have hid His face. 
And His path no more I trace, 
And all comforts that illume 
Life, have faded into gloom — 
Quenched each earth-enkindled spark. 
Can I trust Him in the dark ? 
Will my wavering faith still hold 
To a promise breathed of old ? 
When I meet some foe unknown. 
Shall I find myself alone ? 
Soul, bv faith thou vilkcst here: 



^ 



" rilY SHIELD AND BUCKLERP 145 

Though nor siin nor stars appear, 
AVait and watch throughout the nio-ht 
And till daybreak ask not sigU ! 
All unseen, thy Heavenly Guide 
Walks, through darkness, at thy side. 
*' Heayen and earth shall pass away, 
Not My Words—" so Christ doth say : 
In the gloom " His Tkuth shall be 
Shield and bucklpr unto thee." 

In the terrors of tlie night, 
In the mid-day arrows' flight, 
When destruction wasteth near, 
And all faces blanch with fear, 
Wlien a thousand round me fall, 
Shall I trust Thee calm through all ? 
Will this trembling spirit be 
Kept " in perfect peace " by Thee ? 
Though all stable things may end. 
Earth and sky in tempest blend, 
Shall I lean upon Thy breast, 
And beneath Thy shadow rest ? 
Wilt Thou arm my soul with po-^er. 
Ne'er experienced till that hour ? 
" Heaven and earth shall pass away. 
Not My Words—" so Christ doth saj ; 
In that strait " His Trutf shall be 
Shield and buckler unto thee." 

^ ^ ^ 



^ 14G '' THY blllELD AND BC'CKLERr 

As the weary years go by, 

Will my love wax cold, and die ? 

If tlie pilgrimage be long, 

Life be dark, and foes be strong, 

Shall I not grow faint, and yield ? 

Shall I ever win the field ? 

How shall I endure and dare ? 

How the cross in i)atience bear ? 

How through tedious years sustain 

"Wavering conflict, oft in vain ? 

Nay, but the Unchanging Friend 

" Will confirm you to the end /" 

"■• He Who hath the work begun 

Ne'er will leave that work undone — " 

While at God's right hand He lives, 

Deathless is the life He gives, 

Through all change, and woe, and strife, 

" Springing up to endless Life." 

•' Heaven and earth shall pass away. 

Not My Wokds — " so Christ doth say • 

In all years " His Truth shall be 

Shield and buckler unto thee." 

"Wlicn I reach life's earthly bound, 
And the shadows darken round, 
All familiar things and dear 
Fading fast from eye and ear,— 
In that hour of mortal smart, 

^ ^ 



+ ^ ^ 



THE or HER it IDE. ]47 



Trembling flesh and failing heart, 

Shall I find my anchor vain, 

Parting in that latest strain ? 

Hear the Shepherd's voice of old. 

Looking on Uis helpless fold, 

Looking far, with gaze Divine, 

Down the ages' lengthening line : 

'' Every feeble sheep I know : 

Life eternal I bestow : 

'N'one shall pluck them from My hand." 

Shall that word of promise stand ? 

Or, when couritless foes affright. 

Closing round in latest fight. 

In that dead!/ hour and dim, 

Shall my soul be snatched from Him ? 

'' Heaven and earth shall pass away, 

ISToT Mv Words — " so Christ doth say : 

In death's grasp " His Truth shall be 

Shield and biTckler unto thee." n. a. 



THE OTHER SIDE. 

WE dwell this side of Jordan's stream, 
Yet oft there comes a shining beam 
Across froai. yonder shore ; 
While visions of a holy throng. 
And sound of harp, and seraph song. 
Seem gently wafted o'er. 




4' —^ 

148 TEE OTHER SIDE. 

The oilier side ! Ah, there's the place 
Where saints in joy past times retrace, 

And think of trials gone ; 
The veil withdi'awn, they clearly see 
That all on earth had need to be, 

To bring them safely home. 



The other side ! No sni is there, 

To stain the robes that blessed ones wcas 

Made white in Oesus' blood : 
No cry of grief, no yoice of woe, 
To mar the peace their spii'its know — 

Their constant peace with God. 

The other side ! Its shore so bright 
Is radiant with the golden light 

Of Zion's city fair ! 
And many dear ones gone before 
Already tread the happy shore : 

I seem to see them there. 

The other side I Oh, charming sight ! 
Upon its banks, arrayed in white, 

For me a loved one waits : 
Over the stream he calls to me, 
^ear not— I am thy guide to be. 

Uj) to the pearly gates. 



^ 



4^ 



ut. 

I AM CHRIST'S 14S 



Tlie other side ! His well-known voice, 
And dear, bright face, will me rejoice : 

We'll meet in fond embrace. 
He'll lead me on, until we stand, 
Eacli with a j^alm-branch in our hand, 

Before the Saviour's face. 

The other side ! The other side ! 
Who would not braye the swelling tide 

Of earthly toil and care ; 
To w^ake one day, when lile is i)ast, 
Over the stream, at home at last. 

With all the blessed ones there I 



1 AM CIIRISrS, A XL CHRIST IS MIXK 

LONG did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 
Far did I rove, and found no certain home ; 
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast 

Who opes His arms, and bids the weary come. 
With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
And I since then am His, and He is mine. 

Yes, He is mine ! and naught of earthly thing?:. 
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power. 

The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, 
Could tempt me; to forego His love ap hour : 

Go, worthless world, I cry, with all that's thine I 

Go ! T my Saviour's am, and He is mine. 
ir>* 



'+ 



-r-T 



150 I AM CHRIST'S. 



riio good 1 have is from His stores supplied ; 

The ill is only what He deems the best ; 
fie for my fi-iend, I'm rich with naught beside, 

And poor without Him, though of all possest ; 
Changes may come ; I take, or I resign ; 
Content while I am His, whi'e He is mine. 

Wliate'er may change, in Him no change is seen ; 

A glorious sun, that wanes not nor declines ; 
Above the clouds and storms He walks serene, 

And sweetly on His i^eoplcs' darkness shines : 
All may depart ; I fret not, nor repine, 
While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine. 

lie stays me falling, lifts me up when down, 
Reclaims me wandering, guards from eveiy foo, 

Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown, 
Which, in return, before His feet I throw ; 

Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine 

Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine. 

While here, alas ! I know but half His love, 
But half discern Him, and but half adore ; 

But when I meet Him in the realms above, 
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more ; 

And feel, and tell, amid the choir divine, 

Ucw fully I am His, and He is mine. 

HENRY rnANCIS LYTB. 



* 



4 



««iy /.rm ^mmi 



SATISFIED. 161 



^ 



SA T IS FIB I). 

JESUS ! Friend unfailing, 
How dear art Thou to me ! 
Are cares or fears assailing- ? 

I find my strength in The2 ! 
Why should my feet grow wear}' 

Of this my pilgrim way ? 
Rough though the path, and dreary, 
It ends in perfect day. 

Kaught, naught I count as treasure, 

Compared, O Christ, with Thee ! 
Thy sorrow vrithout measm-e 

Earned peace and joy for me. 
1 love to own. Lord Jesus ! 

Thy claims o'er me and mine : 
Bought with Thy blood most precioufe, 

Whose can I be but Thine ? 

"What fills my soul with gladness ? 

'Tio Thine abounding grace I 
Where can I look in sadness, 

But, Jesus, on Thy face ? 
My all is Thy providing ; 

Thy love can ne'er grow cold ; 
Tn Thee, my Refuge, hiding, 

No good wilt Thou withhold 1 

^ ■ ^ 



■^ ' — ^ 

■"-^ 1 52 SATISFIED, '— 

Wby should I droop in soitl^ ? 

Thoii'i't ever by my side : 
Why. trembling, dread the mornnv i 

What ill can e'er betide ? 
If I my Cross have taken, 

Tis but to follow Thee ; 
If scorned, despised, forsaken, 

Naught severs Thee from me 1 

Oh, worldly pomp and glory ! 

Your charms are spread in vain ' 
IVe heard a sweeter story, 

I've found a truer gain ! 
Where Christ a place prepareth. 

There is my loved abode ; 
There shall I gaze on Jesus, 

There shall I dwell with God I 

For every tribulation, 

For every sore distress. 
In Christ I've full salvation. 

Sure help, and quiet rest. 
No fear of foes prevailing ! 

I triumph, Lord, in Thee ! 
O Jesus ! Friend unfailing ! 

II ?w dear art Thou to me ! 
Berlin GcBanghiXch. 



k^ . rp- 



THE DA r OF EBST. \ 58 



4h 



THE DA Y OF REST. 

ODAY most calm, most briglit, 
The fniit of this, the next world's bud 
The endorsemeat of supreme delight, 
Writ by ii Friend, and with His blood ; 
The couch of time, care's balm and bay : 
The week were dark but for Thy light, 
Thy torch doth show the way. 

The other days and thou 
Make up one man, whose face Thou art, 
Knocking at Heaven with thy brow ; 
The worky-days are the back part ; 
The burden of the week lies there. 
Making the whole to stoop and bow, 

Till thy release appear. 

Man had straightforward gone 
To endless death ; but thou dost pull 
And turn us round to look on One, 
Whom, if we were not very dull, 
We could not choose but look on still 
Since there is no place so alone, 

The which He doth not fill. 

Sundays the pillars arc 
On which HcavGu's palace archt'd lies ? 



^ 



^ 



^ ^ 

I"-* J 54 THE DA Y OF REST. 

Tlio other days fill up the spare 
And liollow room, with vanities. 
They arc the fruitful beds and bordera, 
In God's rich garden, that is bare, 

Which pai-ts their ranks and orders, 

The Sundays of man's life, 
Threaded together on time's string, 
Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
Of the eternal, glorious King. 
On Sunday Heaven's gate stands ope ; 
Blessings are plentiful and rife — 

More plentiful than hope. 

This day my Saviour rose. 
And did enclose this light for His , 
That, as each beast His manger knows. 
Man might not of his fodder miss. 
Christ hath took in this piece of ground, 
And made a garden there for those 

Who want herbs for their wound. 

The rest of our creation 
Our great Redeemer did remove, 
With the same shake, which at His Passion 
Did the earth and all things with it move. 
As Samson bore the doors away, 
Christ's hands,though nailed, wrought oursalvatioi., 

And did unhinge that day. 



h 



f 



THE Sn ULA MITE. 1 5 5 



% 



The biiglitness of that day 
We sullied by our foul offence ; 
Wherefore that robe we cast away, 
Having a new at His expense, 
Whose drops of blood paid the full price 
I'hat was required to make us gay, 

And lit for Paradise. 

Thou ai-t a day of mirth ; 
And where the week-days trail on ground, 
Thy flight is higher, as thy biiih ; 
O let me take thee at the bound, 
Groping with thee from seven to seven. 
Till that we both, being tossed fi'om earth 

Fly hand in hand to Heaven ! 

HERBEllT. 



THE SHULAMITE AT THE LOIWS FEET. 

POOR heart! v/hy throb thus wildly in my 
breast ? 
The more I ponder on my Master's word, 
The more are doubts and fears within me stii r\i. 
Long as my eyes on my ovrn weakness rest. 

I to come forth I What, I ! 'Twas so Tie said— 
My wav'ring steps to others must be guide. 
My feeble arm must 'gainst the foe be tried ; 

There a whole world — and here a lov»ly maid I 



^ 



_}4"j" 



156 /' <5 { '!■: Til A T FA ^SET/f KSO WL EDGE, 

^V'L, no, my Lord ! and vet the call is Thine I 
I f;poke unwisely, keej^ing self in sight ; 
I'll only look on Thy all-saving might — 

r>e cahn, my heart ! for my Beloved is mine. 

Ve% my Beloved is mine — vrhat Tvould.st then 
more ? 

The cause is His ! It is His work I do ! 

He is ray rock, my shield and buckler too ; 
Of strength and wisdom my unfailing store. 

And I am His. Oh, heart, be faithful still ! 
Still let Him lead me as it seems Him best I 
With Him to combat, or with Him to rest, 

March, or encamp, according to His will. 

My Friend is mine, and I forever His : 
Himself he gave, myself to Him I give ; 
In me He dwells— in Him alone I live : 

Was ever union half so blest as this ? 

L. C. C. 




THE LOVE THAT PASSETIl KNOWLEDGE 

YTOT what I am, O Lord, but what Thou art I 
iS. That, that alone can be my soul's true rest ; 
Thy love, not mine, bids fear aiid doubt depart, 
Aud stills tlio tempest of my tossiDg breast. 



# 



^ 



LOVE TIIA2 PASSETR KNOWLEDGE. 157 

it is Thy perfect lore that casts out fear; 

I know the voice that speaks the " It is I ;" 
And in these well-known words of heayenly cheer, 

I hear the joy that bids each sorrow fly. 

Thy name is Love ! I hear it from yon Cross ; 

Thy name is Love I I read it in yon tomb ; 
All meaner love is perishable dross. 

But this shall light me through time's thickest 
gloom. 

It blesses now, and shall forever bless ; 

It saves me now, and shall forever save ; 
It holds me up in days of helplessness, 

It bears me safely o'er each swelling wave. 

Girt with the love of God on every side, 
Breathing that love as Heaven's own healing air, 

I work or wait, still followixig my guide, 
Braving each foe, escaping every snare. 

'Tis what I know of Thee, my Lord and God; 

That fills my soul with peace, my lips with song ; 
Thou art my health, my joy, my staff and rod ; 

Leaning on Thee, in weakness I am strong. 

f um all want and hunger ; this faint heart 
Pines for a fullness which it finds not here ; 

Dear ones are leaving, and, as they depart, 
Make room within for something vet more denx, 
14 



j-JH- 



4" ^ 

,-J 158 2IIE snJiKF-TRACii, ^ 

aiore of Tbyself, oil, show me hour by hour 
More of thy glory, O my God and Lord ! 

More of Thyself in all Thy grace and power, 
More of Thy love and truth, Incarnate Word ! 

BONAR. 



THE SHESP- TRA CK. 

TWO ways : only two. One leadeth 
Home to the land of rest, 
And the Good Shepherd guides the flock He 
feedeth, 
The road He knowcth best. 

The feeble lamb, within His bosom hiding, 

Is precious as the strong ; 
The sick He tends : in sweet compassion guiding 

The weary one with young. 

He leads them forth, He gocth out before then. , 

And where the two ways meet. 
They look to Him, whose eye is watching o'er them 

To guide their wavering feet. 

They own a mark by which the Master claims them, 

Though oft the sign seems dim ; 
And well they know the Shepherd King ^hi 
names them — 

They hear and follow Ilim. 

t^ ^ 



4^- ^ 

pJ rilE SHEEP- TRACK. 159 L, 

Sweet sounds His voice. All other calls uiiliccding. 

They watch where He may lead ; 
And in His face of love His wishes reading, 

The flock that track will tread. 



Narrow it is, and rough, and often lonely, 

Upon the mountain steep : 
There's room for Jesus, and for Jesus only, 

And for His timid sheep. 

Around spread flowery fields where in their blind- 
ness 
The careless ones would roam : 
Sharp seems the Shepherd's rod that flJb in kind- 
ness 
To bring the wanderers home. 

Fierce howls the wolf, and adders creep aioaiid 
them ; 

But succor He will send ; 
For He who in the wilderness first found them 

Will keep them to the end. 



Two ways : only two. The other bendeth 

Down unto hell beneath I 
Broad is the gate, and frantic mirth ascendetU 

From crowds that rush to death. 



fi^ 



J 



J^J 



160 " GOOD LOUD, DELIVER US!"" '—1 

No heavenly friend will soothe their hopeles sor- li 
row, 

No arm their burden bear ; 
No fold of rest awaits them on the morrow, 

No Shepherd King is there. 

For them death's bondage, and a night of weeping 

That hath no dawn of day. 
Oh, Christ ! who o'er Thy flock Thy watch art 
keeping, 

Thou art the Truth, the Way ! 

ANKA SHTPTON. 



'IN ALL TIME OF OUR TRIBULATION, 
GOOD LORD, DELIVER US P' 

SAVIOUR I by Thy sweet compassion. 
So unmeasured, so Divine ; 
By that bitter, bitter Passion ; 

By that crimson Cross of Thine ; 
Bt the woes Thy love once tasted 
In this sin-marred world below, 
Succor those in tribulation. 
Succor those in sorrow now. 

Thou Who wast so sorely burdened, 
Help the weak that are oppressed j 

Sanctiiy all earthly crosses, 
For the coming day of rest; 

^ ■ rft 




GUVD LORD, DELIVER USr' \^\ 



Give the meek a trustful sjiirit 

That will always lean on Thee, 
And in storms of deep afiiiction 

Still Thy gracious Presence seeu 

Lord, Thou hast r. holy purpose 

In each suffering we bear ; 
In each throe of pain and terroi, 

In each secret, silent tear ; 
Tn the weary days of sickness, 

Famine, want, and loneliness ; 
[n our night-time of bereavement, 

In our soul's Lent-bitterness. 

A.11 the needful sweet con-ection 

Of this gentle Hand of Thine, 
All Thy wise and careful nuiiure, 

All Thy faultless discipline : 
All to purge the precious metal, 

Till it will reflect Thy face ; 
/vll to shape and polish jewels 

Thine Own diadem to grace. 

Lord, we know that we must evei 

Take our cross and follow Thee 
All along the narrow jDathway, 

If we would Thy glory see. 
14* 

^ rf 



^Xl "" " '" LI If 

102 ''GOOD LORD, DELlVm US."" | 

Then, oh, lieliJ us eacli to bear it, 
By Thine own hard life of shame ; 

i^ct us suifer well and meekly, 
Let us glorify Thy name. 

Cheer the weak ones who arc bending 

'Neath this weaiy burden now ; 
Lift the pallid faces upward. 

Smooth the care-worn, furrowed brow \ 
Send a bright and hopeful message 

To each tried and tempted heart, 
That the thick and gloomy shadows 

At that sunshine may depart. 

Tell them Thou canst sec all sorrow 

In this world's rough wilderness ; 
Tell them Thou art near to succor, 

Near to comfort and to bless ; 
Tell them of Thy Cross and Passion, 

Tell them of Thy trials sore, 
Tell them of the Angel-city 

Where is joy for evermore. 

ADA CAJkTBKPXia 



^ 



VIS IT A HON OF THE SIC K. 1 6.3 



VISITATION OF THE SICK. 

PEACE to this liouse ! O Tliou Wlioss waj 
Was on the waves, Wliose voice did stay 
The wild wind's rage, come, Lord, and say, 
Peace to this house ! 



Thou, Who in j^ity for the weak 
Didst quit Thy heavenly Thi'onc to seek 
And save the lost, come, Lord, and speak 
Peace to this house ! 

Thou, Who dost all our sorrows know, 
And when our tears of anguish flow 
Dost feel compassion, come, bestow 
Peace on this house ! 

Thou, Who in agony didst pray, 
'' Take, Father, take this cup away," 
And then wast strengthened, come and ssy 
Peace to this house ! 

O Conqueror by suffering ! 
O mighty Victor I glorious King ! 
From out of pain and soitow bring 
Peace to this house ! 



4 



104 VISITATIOS OF THE SICK. 

Thou, Who triumphant from the dead 
Thine Hands didst o'er the Apostles spread 
And say, " Peace to you," come, and shed 
Peace on this house ! 

Thou, ^\Tio didst on the clouds ascend, 
And then the Holy Spirit send. 
Send Him to comfort, and defend 
All in this house I 

Lord, in the Sacramental food 
Of Thine own Body and Thy Blood, 
Peace that is felt, not understood, 
Give to this house ! 

Save, save us sinking in the deep, 
Give ease from j)ain and quiet sleep, 
And under Thy wing's shelter keep 
All in this house ! 

" Peace to this house," come. Lord, and saj 
Come to us. Lord, and with us stay , 
Oh, give, and never take away 
Peace from this house 1 

And when at last our fliinting breath 
On trembling lips scarce quivereth, 
Oh, bring us through the gate of Death, 
Loixl, to Thino House 1 



h 



TITE MYSTERY OF CHRIST. ig5 

To Thine own House in Paradise, 
To Thine own House above the sk.cs, 
To live the life that never dies, 
Lord, in Thine House ! 

C. WOKDSMOFlT/t 



THE MYSTERY OF CHRIST. 

I MARVEL night and day, and cannot cease — 
Ask evermore, Can this thing be ? 
Heaven brought to earth — her IMaker made nij 
peace, 
God bound, to set me free I 

I cannot love Thee as I would and ought ; 

But, by Thy grace i)resenting still, 
From all things else to Thee retm-ns my tliought, 

And brings Thee back my will. 

All thoughts, all searches, to this centre tend ; 

All rays in this one focus meet ; 
Here, as of old, the wise men journeying send 

Their treasures at Thy feet. 

There is no record, but doth hint of Thee ; 

All history else were false and vain ; 
The stones Thy kingdom preach ; loosed with tnii 
key, 

Ail hardest things aie plain. 



k 



_r 



Lj__ 



106 1'"!^ MTSTEUY OF CHRIST. 



k 



Then.' is no t\ isdom but doth taste of Tliine ; 

All lights that did Thine own forerun 
Caught Thy preyenient gleams, as clouds tliut 
^xiine 

In the unriscn sun. 

Tlie glories of earth's empires, age by age 

Submitting grandly to decay, 
Wore but the' illusive dawn that did presage 

Thy fixed and perfect day. 

Art's beauteous dreams, the charm o^ thought ana 
song, 

The majesty of rule and law, 
The single mind outsoaring from the throng, 

Gifted a world to draw, — 

Wliat were they all but preludes poor and faist 

Of Thy supreme imperial reign 
In glory and in beauty, when each saint 

Thy likeness shall attain ? 

Thou hast been here ; of old, as now, 

Walking unseen the paths we go ; 
Dut in the central years, one lifetime, Thou 

Thy yisiblc form didst show. 




ft' — — '' — lii- 

i M 

-^ THE GIVER AXL THE GIFTS. 1(37 ^ 

A cloud did steal Thee from us ; l:ut tliat Lour 
Tliy glorious ministiy began ; 
i Tliou gav'st the word — from thence, with quick- 

ening power, 
That word the earth o'erran. 

Tliou art not gone, but hidden ; to our sense 
Thou shalt return ; Thou didst not show 

Thy glory at the first, whose height immense 
Stooped to our stature low. 

Till Thy true advent dawn, Thy Church, like Thee, 

Shall sufler, die, and rise again ; 
Then, glorified, made white, eteraally 

With Thee on earth shall reign. 

CnAPvLES I.AUr.ENCE FORD. 



THE GIVER AND THE GIFTS 

fjlHE path I trod so pleasant was and fair, 
X I counted it life's best ; 

Forgetting that Tiiou, Lord, hadst placed me llicre 
To journey towards Thy rest. 

F'orgetting that the path was only good 

Because the homeward way, 
[ held it fullest beauty where I stood— 

I thought these gleams the day. 



^ 



168 THE GlVFAi jlLlD THE GIFTS. 

I know I might have seen in eveiT star 

That sheds its lisht on nie, 
A lamp of Tliine. set ont to guide from fui* 

My steps towards home and Thee ; — 

riave heard in streams with bending grasses clad, 

Which sparkled through the sod, 
The music of the river that makes glad 

The city of our God ; — 

In flowers plucked but to wither in my hand, 

Or jiassed with lingering feet, 
Have read my Father's promise of a land 

AYlierc flowers arc still more sweet. 

And I have knelt, how often, thanking Thee 

For what Thy love hath given, 
Then turned away to bend to these my knee, 

And seek in these my Heaven. 

Forgive me that I, looking for the day. 

Forget whence it would shine ; 
And turned Thy helps to reasons for delay. 

And loved not Thee, but Thine. 

i'et most for the cold heart with which I write 

Of sin so faintly felt : — 
This frost of doubt, this darkness as of night 

Thy love can cheer nnd melt. 



^ 



-^jli ^ ^ 

r—* ^'I WILL ARiSk:* 169 ^ 

On mc unworthy shed, O Lord, the glow 

Of Thy dear light and love, 
Tliat I may walk with trusting faith below. 

Towards the fair land above ; 

That I may learn in all Thy gifts to see 

The love that on me smiled, 
And find in all I have a thought of Thee, 

Who thus hast blessed Thy child ; 

And most in what Thy tcnderest love hath given 

Those to my heart most dear ; 
May I through these look upward to Thy Heaven, 

In these find Thee most near. 

LUCY FLETCnKK. 



"/ WILL ARISE AND GO TO MY FATHER." 

I ASK if Thou canst love mc still, O God ? 
They say Thou canst not love so weak a thing- 
One that was angered by a Father's rod, 
One that hath wayward and rebellious been, 
Unstable, thankless, prone to every sin. 
Thou knowest all— yet whither shall I go, 
To leave my sins and vrith them leave my woe, 
Except to Thee, who only help canst bring. 
And bid me live thy psi'doning love to sing ? 

+b — rp- 



^ ^ ^ 

—J 170 WAKING. ^ 

I coijc, my sinful thongiits have rexed mc long ; 

I fly, for evil spirits round mc tlirong, 

And I am weak, but Thou, my God, art sti'ong I 

My tears are flowing — no, Thou canst not see 

Tiiy child in anguish and not pity me. 

I lay my head upon thy infinite heart, 

I Iiido beneath the shelter of thy wing ; 

Pursued, and temi)ted, helpless, I must cling 

To Thee, my Father ; bid mc not depart, 

For sin and death i)ursue, and life is where Thou art i 

Fede Criicis. 



W A K I N G . 

I HAVE done, at length, with dreaming 
Henceforth, O Thou Soul of mine. 
Thou must take up sword and gauntlet, 

Waging warfare most diyine. 
Life is struggle, combat, victory — 

Wherefore have I slumbered on 
With my forces all unmarshaled, 

With my weapons all undrawn ? 
Oh, how many a glorious record 

Had the angel of me kept, 
Had I done instead of doubted, 

Had I warred instead of wept 1 



^ 



_J WAKING. in H 



But, begone I regret, bewailing, 

Ye but weaken at the best ; 
I have tried the trusty weapons 

Resting erst within my breast : 
I have wakened to my duty, 

To a knowledge strong and deep, 
That I dreamed not of aforetime 

In my long, inglorious sleep : 
For to lose is something awful, 

And I knew it not before ; 
And I dreamed not how stupendous 

Was the secret that I bore — 
The great, deep, mysterious secret 

Of a life to be wrought out 
Into warm, heroic action, 

Weakened not by fear or dou]>t. 
In this subtle sense of living. 

Newly atirred in every vcin^ 
I can feel a throb electric, 

Pleasure half-allied to pain. — 
"I'ls so great — and yet so awful — 

So bewildering, yet so brave, 
To be king in every conflict 

Where before I crouched a slave. 
It's so glorious to be conscious 

Of a glorious power within, . 
Stronger than the rallying forces 

Of a charged and marshaled sin. 



^ 




p-J 1 72 -'<^ TillSCr n UT L EA VE3. 



Never in those old romances 

Felt I half the sense of life 
That I feel within me stirring 

Standing in the place of strife. 
Oh, those olden days of dalliance, 

TVhcn I wantoned with my fotc, 
When I trifled with a knowledge 

That well-nigh had come too late 
Yet, my Soul, look not behind thee, 

Thou hast work to do at last ; 
Let the brave toil of the Present 

Overarch the crumbling Past ; 
Build thy great acts high, and higher, 

BuiVl them on the conquered sod 
AVTiere thy weakness fii'st fell bleeding, 

And thy first jDrayer rose to God. 

caroli:jsE a. briggs 



XOTHIXG BUT LEAVES. 

\TOTHING but leaves- the spirit grieves 
ll Over a wasted life. 
Sins committed while conscience slept ; 
Promises made, but never kept ; 
Hatred, battle, and strife — 
Nothing but leaves. 

r^othing but leaves : no ganiercd sheavca 
Of life's fiiir ripeacd grain : 

^ ^ 



# 



^ 



PA UL GEliJIARDT'S HYMN. \ ^3 

Words, idle words, for earnest deeds. 
We sow our seed — lo ! tares and weeds 
Go reap witli toil and pain 
Nothing but leaves. 

Notliing but leaves : memory weaves 

iN'o veil to sever the past ; 
As we return our weary way, 
Counting each, lost and misspent day, 

We find sadly, at last, 

Nothing but leaves. 

And shall we meet the Master so, 

Bearing our withered leaves ? 
The Saviour looks for perfect fruit : 
We stand before Him, humbled, mute, 

Waiting the word He breathes — 
Nothing but leaves. 



*- 



PAUL GERIIARDTS HYMN 

COjyiETH sunshine after rain, 
After morning joy again; 
After heavy, bitter grief, 
Dawneth surely sweet relief: 

And my soul, who, from her height, 
Sank to realms of woe and night, 
Wingetli now to heaven her fliglit. 



J 



J 

174 PAUL GERHARD'rS HYMN. 

He whom tliis world dares not face, 
Hatli refreshed me with His grace. 
And His mighty Hand unbound, 
Chains of hell about me wound ; 

Quicker, stronger, leaps my blood 
Since His mercy, like a flood, 
Poured o'er all my heart for good. 

Bitter anguish have I borne, 
Keen regret my heart hath torn, 
SoiTOW dimmed my weeping eyes, 
Satan blinded me with lies : 

Yet at last am I set free, 
Help, protection, Ioyc, to mc 
Once more true companions be. 

Ne'er was left a helpless prey, 
Ne'er with shame was turned away, — 
He who gave himself to God, 
And on him had cast a load ; 

^Vho in God his hope hatli placed, 
Shall not life in i^ain outwaste, 
Fullest joy he yet shall ta^te. 



L 



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^ 



f 



'* riFSr MEiTAINETH: 



176 



t 



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" REST REMAIN ETW 

J^^^T BEMAmETE~oh, how sweet 

Flowery fields for wandering feet, 
Peaceful calm for sleepless eyes, 
Life for death, and songs for sighs. 

Rest remai net 7i— hush that sigh ; 
Mourning pi]grim, rest is nigh ; 
Yet a season, bright and blest, 
Thou shalt enter on thy rest. 

Rest rcmai/wth — rest from sin 

Guilt can never enter in ; 

Every warring thought shall cease— 

Rest in puiity and peace. 

Rest rcmauiet/i— rest from tears, 
Rest from parting, rest from fears ; 
Every tremljling thought shaU be 
Lost, my Saviour— lost in Thee, 

Rest remaineth—o\ how blest 1 
We believe, and we have rest ; 
Faith, reposing faith, hath been 
'Mongst tlie things that are not sceu 



+^ 



1 ^6 " / SHALL BE SA TISFIED: 



Thus, my Saviour, let me be 
Even here at rest in Thee, 
And, at last, by Thee possessed, 
On Thy bosom sink to rest. 

From ^'- DarTc Sayings on a Uar'pr 



"I SHALL BE satisfied:' 

VrOT HERE ! not here ; not where the spark- 
li ling waters ' 

Fade into mocking sands, as we draw near ; 
Where in the wilderness each footstep falters : 
I shall be satisfied — but oh, not here ! 

Not here— where eveiy di'eam of bliss deceives us, 
Where the worn spirit never gains its goal ; 
Where, haunted ever by the thought that grieves us, 
Across us floods of bitter memory roll. 

There is a laud where every i^ulse is thrilling 
With raptm-e earth's sojourners may not know ; 
^Vhere heaven's repose the weary heart is stilling 
And peacefully life's time-toss'd currents flow. 

Far out of sight, while yet the flesh infolds us, 
Lies the fair country where our hearts abide, 
And of its bliss is naught more woudi'ous told ns 
Tbau these few \nords : " I shall be satisfied I" 



lr~~ — — ' — nfi 

r JESL% I AM yEVER WEARy. 177 ^ 

i Satisfied ! satisfied ! the spirit's y«arning 

For sweet companionship with kindred minds ; 
The silent love that here meets no returning, 
The inspiration which no language finds. 

Shallthej be satisfied ? — the soul's vague longings, 
The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? 

what desires upon my soul are thronging, 
As I look upward to the heavenly hills ! 

Thither my weak and weary feet are tending — 
Saviour and Lord, with Thy frail child abide ; 
Guide me toward home, where, all my wandcringg 
ended, 

1 <}l)en shall see 27tee and *' be satisfied !" 



JJ^Sb'S, I AAf NEVER WEARY. 

JESUS, I am never weary, 
When upon this bed of pain ; 
If Thy presence only cheer me. 
All ray loss I count but gain : 

Ever nciir lue, 
Ever near me. Lord, remain ! 

Dear ones come Vv'ith fruits and flowers, 
Thus to cheer mv heart the while. 



^ 



175 JESVS, 1 AM l^EVEll WE ART. 

In these deeply anxious liours ; 
Oh ! if Jesus only smile ! — 

Only Jesus 
Can these troubling fears beguile. 

All my sins were laid upon Thee, 
All my giiefs were on Thee laid ; 

For the blood of Thine atonement 
All my utmost debts has paid : 

Dearest Saviour ! 
I believe, for Thou hast said. 

Dearest Saviom* I go not from me ; 

Let Thy presence still abide ; 
Look in tenderest love upon me — 

I am sheltering at Thy side, 
Dearest Saviour ! 

Whc for suflcriug sinners died. 

Both mine arms are clasj^ed around Thee, 
And my head is on Thy breast ; 

For my weary soul has tound Thee 
Such ^ perfect, iierfect rest. 

Dearest Saviour ! 
Now I know that I am blest. 

MES WEISS. 



4i 



i 



* ^ 



4^ 



WE SHALL SEE HIM AH HE IS \1^ 



WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS. 

VTOT as He ■v\'as, a liouseless stranger, 
1^ With no home to shield His head ; 
Kot as seen in Bethlehem's manger, 
Where the horned oxen fid : — 



Not as in the Garden groaning, 
Plunged in deep, mysterious woe, 

All the guilt of man bemoaning, 

While the precious blood-sweats flow 

Not as seen on Calvary's mountain. 
Where He olfered up His soul, 

Opening wide that sacred Fountain, 
Wliich alone can make us whole ; — 

Not as He was, a pale and breathless 
Captive in the shades beneath, — 

But as He is, Immortal, Deathless, 
Conqueror o'er the powers of death 1 

Tcs ! we shall see Him in our nature, 
Seated on His lofty Throae — 

Loved, adored by every creature — 
Owned as G od, and God alone 1 



f 



-4' 



^ 



ISO 



coyTr:xTM£y 



There countless hosts of shmir.;: ^pirit^ 
Strike their harps, and loudly sing 

To the praise of Jesus' merits, 
To the gloiy of their Kinii ! 

"Wlien we i'>flss o'er death's dark river, 
We shall see Him as He is - 

Resting in His love and thvcr. 
O'^Tiing all the glory His. 

There to cast our crowns before Ilim — 
Oh, what bliss the thought atibrds ! 

There forever to adore Him— 

King of kings and Lord c^f lords ! 



c oxTFXTjrh'X'r. 

BE thou content ; be still before 
His face, at whose right hand doth reign 
Fullness of joy for evermore, 

"Without whom all thy toil is vain : 
He is thy living spring, thy sun, whose rays 
Make glad with life and light thy dreary days*. 
Be thou content. 

In Him is comfort, light, and grace. 

And changeless love beyond our thought ; 

The sorest pang, the worst disgrace, 
K He is there, shall hann thee not. 



■* ^*- 



^ 



HA VE FAITH JX GOP. 181 



He can lift off thy cross, and loose thy liands. 
And calm thy iears • nay, death is in His-hnnds 
Be then content. 

Or art tliou friendless and alone, 

Ilast none in whom thou canst confide ? 

God carcth for thee, lonely one — 
Comfort and help He will provide. 

He sees thy sorrows, and thy hidden gnef, 

lie knoweth when to send thee quick relief: 
Be thou content. 

ITiy heart's unspoken pain He knows, 
Thy secret sighs He hears full well ; 

Wliat to none else thou dar'st disclose, 
To Him thou may'st with boldness tell. 

He i3 not far away, but ever nigh. 

And answereth willingly the poor man's cry : 
Be thou content. 



IIAV^: FAITH IX COL. 

HAVE faith in God ! for He who reigns on Jiigi 
Hath borne thy grief and hears the suppli 
ant's sigh ; 
Still to His arms, thine only refuge, fly. 
Have faith in God I 
16 



^ 



182 BREAD UPOX THE WATERS. 

Fear not to call on Him, O soul distressed ! 
Thy sorrow's whisper woos thee to His breast ; 
He who is oftenest there is oftenest blest. 
Have faith in God ! 

I.oan not on Egjr|)t's reeds ; shikc not thy thirst 
At earthly cisteras. Seek the kingdom iii'st. 
Though man and Satan fright thee with theli 
worst, 

Have faith in God ! 

Go I tell Him all I The sigh thy bosom luaycs 
Is heard ia hec^ven. Strength and grace He gives, 
Who gave Himself for thee. Our Jesus lives. 
Have faith in God ! 

ANKA snirTON. 



BREAD UFON THE WATERS. 

SAY not, " 'Twas all in vain," 
The anguish, and the darkness, and the strife ; 
Love thrown upon the waters comes again 
In quenchless yearnings for a nobler life. 
Think ! In that midnight, on thy weary sight 
The stars shone forth, and 'neatli their welcome 
rays 
Thine hopes to Heaven like bii'ds first took their 
flight, 
And " thou shalt find them— alter many days." 



4i 







BREAD iroS Tllh -VsTEES. 153 



Say not, " 'Twas all ia vain," 

The vigil, and tlie sickness, and the tears ; 
For in that Land " whore there is no more pain," 

The grain is garnered from those mournful yeara 
I'he faded torm, once sheltered on thy breast, 

In gentle ministry thy care repays ; 
A.ud smiling on thee from her sinless rest, 

Fear not to find her — " after many days." 

Say not, '' 'Twas all in vain," 

Thy tenderness, thy meekness — oh, not so ! 
A strength for others' sufierings shalt thou gain. 

As healing balms from bruised flowerets flow. 
"Weep not tlic wealth in fearless faith cast forth 

On the dark billov/s sliipwieckcd to thy gaze : 
The bark was frail, tlie gem had still its worth. 

And " thou shalt find it — after many days," 

Say not, '• 'Twas all in vain," 
The watching, and the waiting, and the j^i'ayer , 
[n pierced hands hath it unassumed lain ; 

'Twill grow more radiant as it lingereth there. 
'Tis space — where once thy quivering form wag 
cast, 
Thy heart-wrung sobs no floating breeze betrays , 
Vet, 'mid the white-winged choir thy j^rayer hath 
passed, 
And " thou shalt find it— after many dars." 



4^ 



184 REST FOR THE WEARY. 

Say not, '* 'Twas all in yain," 

The iDatiencc, and the pity, and the word 

[n warning breathed 'mid passion's hurricane, 

Unheeded here— but God that whisper heard, 
The tender grief, o'er strangers' sorrow shed, 

The sacritice that won no human praise. 
In faith upon the watere cast thy Bread, 
For " thou shalt find it — after many days." 

an:^a snirrois. 



^ 



KEST FOR THE WEARY. 

VTOT long, not long ! The spirit-wasting fever 
ii Of this strange life shall quit eacli thro])bing 

vein ; 
And this wild pulse flow placidly forever ; 
And endless peace relieve the burning brain. 

Earth's joys arc but a dream ; its destiny 
Is but decay and death. Its fairest form 

Sunshine and shadow mixed. Its brightest day 
A rainbow braided on the wreaths of stonn. 

Vet there is blessedness that chaugetli not ; 

A rest with God, a life that cannot die ; 
A better portion, and a brighter lot ; 

A liome with Christ, a heritage on high. 



^ 



^ 



THE OFFEUING. 185 



^± 



Hope for the hopeless, for the weary rest, 
More gentle than the still repose of even ! 

Joy for the joyless, bliss for the unblest ; 
Homes for the desolate in yonder heaven. 

The tempest makes returning calm more dear ; 

The darkest midnight makes the brightest star ; 
Even so to us, when all is ended here, 

Shall be the past, remembered from afar. 

Then welcome change and death ! since these 
alone 

Can break life's fetters, and dissolve its spell ; 
Welcome all present change, which speeds us ou 

So swift to that which is unchangeable. 



THE OFFERING. 

VT O more my own. Lord Jesus ; 
1^ Bought with Thy precious Blood, 
I give Thee but Thine own, Lord, 
That long Thy love withstood. 

I give the life Thou gavest, 

My present, future, past ; 
My joys, my fears, my sorrows, 

My tirst hope aad my last 
16* 



186 THE OFFERING, 



^ 



I give Thee up my weaknesa. 

That oft distrust hath bred, 
'Iliat Thy indwelling jDovver 

May thus be perfected. 

I give the love the sweetest 
Thy goodness grants to me ; 

Take it, and make it meet, Lord, 
For olfering to Thee. 

SmiTc ! and the very shadows 
In Thy blest light shall shine ; 

Take Thou my heart. Lord Jesua, 
For Thou hast made it Thine. 

Thou know'st my soul's ambition, 
For Thou hast changed its aim ; 

(The world's reproach I fear not,) 
To share a Saviour's shame : 

Outside the camp to suffer ; 

Within the Vail to meet. 
And hear Thy softest whisper 

From out the Mercy-seat. 

Thou bear'st me on Thy bosom. 

Amidst Thy jewels worn, 
Upon Thy hands deep graven, 

By unns of love upborne. 



% 



4^ ■ ^ 

^ BOLD ON, HOLD IX f/OLD OUT. IS^ L--, 

Rescued from sin's destruction, 

Ransomed from death and hell ; 
Complete in Thee, Lord Jesus : 

Thou hast done all things well ! 

Oh, deathless Iotc that bought mc 1 

Oh, price beyond my ken I 
Oh, Life, that hides my own life 

E'en from my fellow-men ! 

Now fashion, form, and fill me 

With hght and love Divine ; 
So, ONE with Thee, Lord Jesus, 

I'm Thine — forever Thine ! 

A^CS'A SUiPTON. 



HOLD ON, HOLD IN, HOLD OUT. 

HOLD on, my heart, in thy believing ! 
The steadfast only wins the crown. 
He who, when stormy waves are heaving, 
Parts vrith his anchor, shall go down ; 
But he who Jesus holds through all, 
Shall stand, though heaven and earth shiil] tall 

Hold ill thy murmurs, heaven arraigning ! 

The patient see God's loving face : 
Who bear then* burdens uncomplaining, 

'Tis they that win the Father'.^ grace ; 



-^ 



n& 



& ^ 

He wouuds himself who bears the rod, 
And sets himself to fight with God. 

Hold out ! There comes an end to soit()"vt 
Hope from the dust shall conquering rise ; 

The storm foretells a sunnier morrow ; 
The Cross points on to Paradise. 

The Father reigneth ; cease all doubt ; 

Hold on, my heart, hold in, hold out ! 

SCnM.\CKB, 



GO TELL JESUS. 

BURY thy sorrow, 
The world has its share 
Bury it deeply. 
Hide it with care. 



Think of it calmly 

When curtained by night. 
Tell it to Jesus, 

And all will be right. 

Tell it to Jesus, 

He kuoweth thy grief; 
Tell it to Jesus, 

He'll send thee relicl 



^ 



f 



* 



A PSALM FOR NEW YEARS EVE. igg 



Gather the sunlight 
AgToT7 on thy way ; 

Gather the moonbeams^ 
Each soft silver ray. 

Hearts grown aweary 
With heavier woe, 

Droop 'mid the darkness- 
Go comfort them, go I 

Bury thy sorrow, 
Let others be blest ; 

Give them the sunshine, 
Tell Jesus the rest. 



A PSALM FOR NEW YEAR'S EVE 

A FRIEND stands at the door ; 
In either tight-closed hand 
Hiding nch gifts, three hundred and threc-scoro ; 

Waiting to strew them daily o'er the land 
Even as seed the sower. 
Each drop he treads it in and passes I>y : 
It cannot be made fruitful till it die. 

Oh, good ITeiv Year, we clasp 
Tiis warm shut hand of thiiie \ 

^ ^ 



± 



190 A PSALM J' OR ^EW YEAR'S EVE. 

Loosing forever, with half-sigb, half-grasp, 

That which from ours falls like dead fingers* 
twine : 

Ay, whether fierce its grasp 
Has been, or gentle, having been, we tnow 
That it was blessed ; let the Old Year go. 

Oh, Kew Year, teach us faith ! 

The road of life is hard ; 
When our feet bleed, and scourging winds us 
scathe. 
Point thou to Him Tfhosc visage was more 
marred 
Than any man's ; who saith 

" Make straight paths for your feet — " and tn 

the opprcst — 
" Come ye to Me, and I will give you rest." 

Yet hang some lamp-like hope 

Above this unknown way. 
Kind year, to give our spuits freer scope, 

And our hands strength to work while it is day 
Cut if that way must slope 

Tomb ward, oh, bring before our fading eves 

The lamp of life, the Hope that never die i 1 

Comfort our souls with love, — 
Love of all human kind ; 

^ ^ 



-iir— ' — ™4f 

pJ THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. lOl '— 

Love special, close — in which like sheltered dove 
Each weary heart its own safe nest may find ; 

And love that turns above 
Adoiingly : contented to resign 
All loves, if need be, for the Love Divine. 

Friend, come thou like a fiiend. 

And whether bright thy face, 
Or dim with clouds we cannot comprehend, — 

We'll hold our patient hands, each in his place, 
And trust thee to the end ; 

Knowing thou leadest onwards to those spheres 

Where there are neither days, nor months, noi 
years. 

D. M. MULOCn. 



THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY 

THE world is very evil ! 
The times are waxing late : 
Be sober, and keep vigil ; 



The Judge That comes in mercy. 
The Judge that comes with might. 

To terminate the evil, 
To diadem the right. 

When the just and gentle Monarch 
Shall summon from the tomb. 



^ 



-^ — ^ 

•— ' 192 TffE CELESTIAL COUNTS 7, 

Let man, the guilty, tremble. 

For Man, the God, shall doom, 
Ai'ise, arise, good Christian, 

Let right to wrong succeed ; 
Let penitential soitow 

To heavenly gladness Ier.d ; 
To the light that hath no evcningj 

That knows nor moon nor sun 
The light so new and golden. 

The light that is but one. 
And when the Sole-Begotten 

Shall render up once more 
The kingdom to the Father 

Whose own it was before, — 
Then glory yet unheard of 

Shall shed abroad its ray. 
Resolving all enigmas, 

An endless Sabbath-day. 
Then, then from his oppressors 

The Hebrew shall go free. 
And celebrate in triumph 

The year of Jubilee ; 
And the sunlit Land that recks ncs* 

Of tempest nor of fight, 
Shall fold within its bosom 

Each happy Israelite : 
The Home of fadeless splendor, 

Of flowers that fear no thorEL 

•^n ^ 



4' ^ 

-J THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 193 L-i. 

Wliere tliey sliall dwell as cliildren. 

Who here as exiles mourn. 
Midst power that knows no limit, 

And wisdom free from bound, 
The Beatific Vision 

Shall glad the Saints around : 
The peace of all the faithful. 

The calm of all the blest. 
Inviolate, unraried, 

Divinest, sweetest, best. 
Yes, peace ! for war is needless, — 

Yes, calm ! for storm is past, — 
And goal from finished labor, 

And anchorage at last. 
That peace — but who may claim it I 

The guileless in their way. 
Who keep the ranks of battle. 

Who mean the thing they say : 
The peace that is for heaven, 

And shall be for the earth : 
The palace that re-echoes 

With festal song and mirth ; 
The gardeu, breathing spices, 

The paradise on high : 
Grace beautified to glory, 

Unceasing minstrelsy. 
There nothing can be feeble. 

There none can ever mourn. 



L 



^ 



^ 



194 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY 



There nothing is divided, 

Tliere nothing can be torn : 
'Tis fury, ill, and scandal, 

'Tis peaceless peace below ; 
Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless. 

The halls of Syon know : 
O happy, holy portion, 

Refection for the blest • 
True vision of true beauty, 

Sweet cure of all distress ! 
Strive, man, to win that glory ; 

Toil, man, to gain that light ; 
Send hope before to grasp it, 

Till hope be lost in sight : 
Till Jesus gives the portion 

Those blessed souls to fill. 
The insatiate, yet satisfied. 

The full, yet craving still. 
That fullness and that craving 

Alike are free from pain, 
Where thou, midst heavenly citizeoa 

A home like theirs shalt gain. 
Here is the warlike trumpet ; 

There, life set free from sin ; 
When to the last Great Supper 

The faithful shall come in : 
When the heavoily net is laden 

With fishes mouv and jxreat • 



^ : 4 



THE CELESTIAL CGEyT/ir. 103 

So glorious in its fullness, 

Yet so inviolate : 
And the jDerfect from the shattered, 

And the fall'n from them that stand, 
And the sheep-flock from the goat-herd 

Shall part on either hand : 
And these shall pass to torment, 

And those shall triumph, then ; 
The new peculiar nation, 

Blest number of blest men, 
Jerusalem demands them : 

They paid the price on earth, 
And now shall reap the harvest 

In blissfulness and mirth : 
Tlie glorious holy people, 

"Who evermore relied 
Ujoon their Chief and Father, 

The King, the Crucified : 
Tlic sacred ransomed number 

Kow bright with endless sheen, 
Who made the Cross their watch- w ord 

Of Jesus Kazarene : 
Who, fed with heavenly nectar. 

Where foul-like odors play. 
Draw out the endless leisure 

Of that long vernal day : 
And through the sacred lilies, 

And flowers on every side. 






if- 



—i 19G THE CELESTIAL COVSTF.Y, L-, 

The liappy dear-bonglit people 

Go wandering far and wide. 
Their breasts are filled with gladness^ 

Their mouths are tuned to praise, 
\Vliat time, now safe forercrj 

On former sins they gaze : 
The fouler was the error, 

The sadder was the fall, 
The ampler are the praises 

Of Him Who pardoned alL 
Their one and only anthem, 

The fallness of His loye, 
"Wlio gives, instead of torment, 

Eternal joys above : 
Instead of torment, gloiy ; 

Instead of death, that life 
Wherewith your happy Country, 

True Israelties ! is rife. 

Brief life is here our portion ; 

Brief sorrow, short-lived care 
The life that knows no ending 

The tearless life, is tliere. 
O happy retribution ! 

Short toil, eternal rest ; 
For mortals and for sinners 

A mansion with the blest ! 
That we should look, poor wand'rcTB, 



■^ 



i 



4^ ^ 

^^* TME CELESTIAL COUNTK}'. 197 ^— 

To Laye our home on liigli ! 
That worms slioulcl seek for dwcllini^ 

Beyond tlie stany sky 1 
To all one kappy guerdon 

Of one celestial grace ; 
For all, for all, wko moura tlicir fall, 

Is one eternal place : 
And martyrdom katk roses 

Upon that heavenly ground : 
And white and yii-gin lilies 

For Yirgin-souls abound. 
Tliere grief is turned to pleasure ; 

Such j)leasm*e, as below 
K'o human voice can utter, 

No human heart can knov • 
And after fleshly scandal, 

And after this world's night, 
And after storm and whirlwind, 

Is calm, and joy, and light. 
And now we fight the battle, 

But then shall wear the crown 
Of full and everlasting 

And passionless renovni : 
And now we watch and struggle, 

And now we live in hope, 
And Gyoc, in her anguish, 

With Babylon must cope : 

But He "Whom now we trust in 
17* 



^ 



r~ 



1J 



I OS THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 



i 



Shall then be seen and known, 
And they that know and see Him 

Shall have Him for their own. 
The miserable pleasures 

Of the body shall decay : 
I'he bland and flattering struggles 

Of the flesh shall pass away : 
And none shall there be jealous ; 

zVnd none shall there contend : 
Fraud, clamor, guile — what say I \ 

All ill, all ill shall end! 
And there is David's Fountain, 

And life in fullest glow, 
And there the light is golden, 

And milk and honey flow : 
The light that hath no evening, 

The health that hath, no sore, 
The life that hath no ending. 
But lastetli evermore. 

There Jesus shall embrace us. 

There Jssrs be embraced, — 
That spirit's food and sunshine 

Whence earthly love is chased. 
Amidst the happy chorus, 

A place, however low. 
Shall show Him us, and, showing, 

Shall satiate cvermo. 



I j" 



f 



TH:E CELKSlhil COUNTRY. 1&9 



By hope we struggle onward. 

While here we must be led 
By Diilk, as tender infants, 

But there by Living Bread. 
The night was full of terror, 

The morn is bright with gladness 
The Cross becomes our harbor, 

And we triumph after sadness : 
And Jesus to His true ones 

Brings trophies fair to see : 
And Jesus shall be loved, and 

Beheld in Galilee : 
Beheld, when mom shall waken, 

And shadows shall decay. 
And each true-hearted servant 

Shall shine as doth the day : 
And every ear shall hear it ;- - 

Behold thy King's array : 
Behold thy God in beauty, 

Tlie Law hath past away ! 
Yes ! God my King and Portion, 

In fullness of His grace. 
We then shall see forever, 

And worship face to face. 
Then Jacob into Israel, 

From eai-thlicr self estranged. 
And Leah into Rachel 

Forever shall be changed : 

^ ^ 



4i tt. 



200 TBI: CL'LESTIAL COUNTRY. 

Then all tlic halls of Syon 
For aye shall be complete, 

And, in the Land of Beauty 
All things of beauty meet. 



For thee, O dear, dear Country \ 

Mine eyes their vigils keep ; 
For very love, beholding 

Thy happy name, they "wccp : 
The mention of thy glory 

Is unction to the breast, 
And medicine in sickness, 

And love, and life, and rest, 
O one, O oncly Mansion ! 

O Paradise of Joy ! 
Wliere tears are ever banished, 

And smiles have no alloy ; 
Beside thy living waters 

All plants are, great and small, 
The cedar of the forest, 

The hj'ssop of the wall : 
With jaspers glow thy bulwarks ; 

Thy streets with emeralds blaz:e; 
The sardius and the topaz 

Unite in thee their rays : 
Thine ageless walls are bonded 

With amethyst unpriced : 



in 



^ 



4 ^ 

THE JEIESTIAL COUyTRT. 201 

Tliy Saints build up its fabric, 

And tlie comer-stone is Christ. 
The Cross is all thy splendor, 

The Crucified thy praise : 
His laud and benediction 

Thy ransomed people raise : 
Jestjs, the Gem of Beauty, 

True God and Man, they sing : 
The never-failing Garden, 

The ever-golden Ring : 
The Door, the Pledge, the Husband, 

The Guardian of his Court : 
The Day-star of Salvation, 

The Porter and the Port. 
Thou hast no shore, fair ocean I 

Thou hast no time, bright day ^ 
Dear fountain of refreshment 

To pilgrims far away ! 
Upon the Rock of Ages 

They raise thy holy tower : 
Thine is the victor's laurel, 

And thine the golden dower : 
Thou feel'st in mystic rapture, 

O Bride that know'st no guile, 
The Prince's sweetest kisses, 

The Prince's loveliest smile : 
Unfading lilies, bracelets 

Of living li&^'d thine own ; 

^ ^ 



■^ 



202 ^'^^ CELESTIAL COUNTKY. 

The Lamb is ever near tliee, 

The Bridegroom thine alone ; 
The Crown is He to guerdon, 

The Buckler to protect. 
And He Himself the Mansion 

And He the Architect. 
The only art thou needest, 

Thanksgiving for thy lot : 
The only joy thou seekcst, 

The Life where Death is not 
And all thine endless leisure 

In sweetest accents sings, 
The ill that was thy merit,— 

The wealth that is thy King's I 

Jerusalem the golden, 

With milk and honey blest, 
Beneath thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice ojDpressed ; 
I know not, O I know not, 

What social joys are there ; 
What radiancy of glory. 

What light beyond compare ! 
And when I fain would sing them, 

My spirit fails and faints ; 
And vainly w^ould it image 

The assembly of the Saints. 
ThcY stand, those halls of Svon, 



^ 



4 



^ 



— l±^. 

TBF CELESTIAL COUXTRY. 0^)3 ^— 

Conjiibilant with song, 
And bright with many an angel, 

And all the martyr throng : 
The Prince is ever in them ; 

The daylight is serene ; 
The pastures of the Blessed 

Are decked in glorious sheen. 
There is the throne of David, — 

And there, from care released, 
The song of them that triumph, 

The sjiout of them that feast : 
And they who, with their Leader, 

Have conquered in the fight, 
Forever and forever 

Arc clad in robes of white ! 

O holy, placid harp-notes 

Of that eternal hymn ! 
O sacred, sweet refection, 

And peace of Seraphim ! 
O thirst, forever ardent, 

Yet eveimore content ! 
O true peculiar vision 

Of God cunctipotent 1 
Ye know the many mansions 

For many a glorious namo, 
And divers retributions 

That divers jncrits claim : 



4^ 



204 ^^^^ CELESTIAL COUKTET. 



For midst tlie constellations 
That deck our earthly sky, 

This star than that is brighter, — 
And so it is on hip^h. 



Jerusalem the gioiious ! 

The glory of th' Elect ! 
dear and future vision 

That eager hearts expect ; 
Even now by faith I see thee ; 

Even here thy walls discern : 
To thee my thoughts arc kindled, 

And strive and pant and yearn : 
Jerusalem the onely, 

That look'st from heaven beloWj 
In thee is all my glory ; 

In me is all my woe : 
And though my body may not. 

My spirit seeks thee fain, 
Till flesh and earth return me 

To eai-th and flesh again. 
O none can tell thy bulwarks, 

How gloriously they rise : 
i} none can tell thy capitals 

Of beautiful device : 
Thy loveliness oppresses 

All human tliought and Lean ^' 

^ . ^ 



^ ^ 

THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY 095 

And none, O peace, O Syon, 

Can sing thee as tlioii art. 
iNCw jnan-eion of aevr people, 

Whom God's own love and light * 

Promote, increase, make holy, 

Identify, unite. 
Thou City of the Angels ! 

Thou City of the Lord ! 
Whosp everlasting music 

Is the glorious decachord !* 
And there the band of Prophets 

United praise ascribes, 
And there the twelve-fold choni:-» 

Of Is}*aers ransomed trib(>s : 
The lily-beds of virgins, 

The roses' martyr-glow. 
The cohort of the Fathers 

Who kept the faith below. 
And there the Sole-Begotten 

Is LoiiD in regal state ; 
He, Judah's mystic Lion, 

He, Lamb Immaculate. 
O fields that know no sorrow ! 

O state that fears no strife ! 

« Detacliord. Willi reference to the mystical explanation, 
which, seeing in the number ten a type of perfection, under- 
tandathe "instrument of ten strings" of the perfect harmoay 
of ii<eaven. 



.t 



^ 



t 



206 ^^^^ CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 

O princely boVrs ! O land of floTv'rr I 
O realm and home of life I 



On tliat securest shore, 
I hojDe thee, wish thee, sing thee, 

And loYC thee evermore ! 
I ask not for my merit : 

I seek not to deny 
My merit is destruction, 

A child of \<n-ath am I : 
But yet with Faith I venture 

And Hope upon my way ; 
For those perennial guerdons 

I labor night and day. 
The Best and Dearest Father 

Who made me and Who saved, 
Bore with me in defilement, 

And from defilement laved : 
When in His strength I struggle, 

For very joy I leap, 
When in my sin I totter, 

I weep, or tiy to weep : 
And grace, sweet grace celestial, 

Shall all its love display. 
And David's Royal Fountain 

Purge cvcjry sm away. 



^ 



-htr- — d. 

— i THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 207 I \ 

O mine, my golden Syon I 

O lovelier far than gold ! 
vVith laurel-girt battalions, 

And safe victorious fold : 
O sweet and blessed Country, 

Shall I ever see thy face ? 

sweet and blessed Country, 
Shall I ever win thy grace ? 

1 liave the hope within rae 
To comfort and to bless I 

Shall I ever win the prize itself? 
O tell me, tell me. Yes I 

Exult, O dust and ashes ! 

The Lord shall be thy jDart : 
His only, His forever. 

Thou shalt be, and thou art ! 
Exult, O dust and ashes ! 

The LcRD shall be thy part : 
His only, His forever, 

Thou shalt le, and thou art ! 

BERNARD OF CLUNY. 

Trandated l>y NcaU 



^ 



As— lL 

. — I On« TA k'K UFA RT OF nP 4nP *— 1 



203 TA KE HE A RT OF GRA CE. 



''TAKE HEART OF GRACE:' 

Oil, thou ! who tossing on life's troubled ocestn. 
Moumest the hidings of thy Father's face, 
\ lid comfortless, amid the wild commotion, 
Meekest in vain some quiet resting-place ; , 
Thou weary, fainting soul ! " take heart of 
grace." 

Look up ! when storms of woe are round thee 
sweei^ing. 
Learn thou in all thy Saviour's hand to trace : 
Above the storm, behind the dark clouds, keeping 
Ceaseless watch o'er thee, beams my loving face ; 
Therefore, thou faithless one ! take heart of 
grace. 

Not all the fiercest tempests round thee blowing. 
Can drive thee far from heaven's sweet resting- 
place ; 

Not all the floods thy sorrowing soul o'erllowing, 
Can long avail to hide from thee my flice ; 
Therefore, O downcast soul ! take heart of grace. 

Oh, waste no more thy breath in weak complain- 
ing I 
Doubts throw aside ! No longer thus disgrace 
My iiiithful love that Icadhig, guiding, training, 



f 



TAKE HEART OF GRA GE. 209 



-^ 



Perfrcts thee thus for my own dwelling-place. 



Hast thou not seen how, for some precious treasure, 
Men beat of purest gold, a goodly case ? 

Or cut for fragrant odors, at their pleasure. 
Out of rough stone, a rare and polished vase ? 
O thou short-sighted one I take heart of grace. 

Like them, when for myself I am preparing 

Out of the soul, a fit abiding-place ; 
I hew thee, beat thee, till I see thee bearing 

My image ; and my perfect likeness trace ; 
Therefore, thou chosen one ! take heart of grace. 

Oh then, be of good courage ! for I love thee ; 

Gladly and cheerfully each cross embrace, 
And bear it manfully ; for soon above thee, 

Light from my throne each cloud away shall 
chase ; 

Therefore, afflicted one I take heart of grace. 



And soon life's sorest trials passed forever, 
Faultless before thy and my Father's face, 

r will present thee joyfully ; and never 
Keed to say 1o thee, in that resting-place. 
O weary, fainting soul ! take heart of grace. 



^ 



^xr 



210 BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US, 

For eyery hour of tliat blest life immortal, 
Thou shalt be glad my guiding band to trace, 

That made thee meet, by trials, through the portaJ 
To enter in, and reit in my embrace ; 
Therefore, look upward I and take heai*t of 
grace. 



-h 



BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 

I LOVE Thee, O my God I but not 
For what I hope thereby. 
Nor yet because who love Thee not 

Must die eternally. 
I love Thee, O my God 1 and still 

I ever will love Thee, 
Solely because, my God, Thou art . 
Who first hast lov6d me I 

For me, to lowest depths of woe 

Thou didst Thyself abase ; 
For me didst bear the cross, the shame, 

And manifold disgrace ; 
For me didst suffer pains unknown, 

Blood-sweat and agony. 
Yea, death itself— all, all for me I 

For me. Thine enemy i 




^ ^ 

—J MCK AND IN PRISON. 211 

Then shall I not, O Saviour, mine I 

Shall I not love Thee well ? 
Not with the hope of winning heaven, 

Nor of escaping hell ; 
Not with the hope of earning aught, 

Nor seeking a reward ; 
But freely, fully, as Thyself 

Hast loved me, O Lord 1 



SICK AND m PRISON. 

WILDLY falls the night around me, 
Chains I cannot break have bound mc 
Spirits unrebuked, undriven 
From before me darken Heaven ; 
Creeds bewilder, and the paying 
Unfelt prayer makes need of praying. 

In this bitter anguish lying 

Only Thou wilt hear my crying — 

Thou whose hands wash white the emng, 

As the wool is at the shearing, 

Not with dulcimer or psalter, 

But with tears, I seek Thine altar. 




4^~ ^ 

— ' 212 SICK AND IN PRISON. ^ 

Feet, tliat trod the mount so weary, 
Eyes, that pitying looked on Mary, 
Hands, that brought a Father's blessing, 
Heads of little children pressing ; 
Voice, that said, " Behold thy Mother," 
Lo I I seek ye, and none other. 

Look. O gentlest eye oi pity. 
Out ot Zion, glorious city ! 
Speak, O voice of mercy, sweetly ! 
Hide me, hands of love, completely. 
Sick, in prison, lying lonely. 
Ye can lift me up — Ye only. 

In my hot brow soothe the aching, 
In my sad heart stay the breaking ; 
On my lips, the murmurs trembling 
Change to praises undissembling ; 
Make me raise as th' evangels, 
Clothe me with the wings of angels. 

Power, that made the few loaves many, 
Power, that blessed the wine at Cana, 
Power, that said to Lazarus " waken," 
Leave, oh, leave me not forsaken. 
Sick, and hungry, and in prison, 
Save me. Crucified and Risen I 



k 



* 



4^ % 

J '^An, ONE WHOM im MOTHER COMFORTETK"^ 13 »-n 



"AS ONE WHOM HIS MOTHER COM- 
FORTE TH." 

i(.Op Tvill I comfort you," as when a sobbing 

U child 

Seeks sweet heart-comfort on its mother's breast ; 
By her caresses fond unconsciously beguiled 

From memories of pain, soon sinks to rest. 

'*ye shall be comforted." Our hearts are faint 
and sore. 
We would be little children once again ; 
But childhood would bring back the griefs we 
knew of yore, 
But not the mother who caressed us then. 

We need a stronger love, we seek a deeper rest, 
Whose type and earnest we once knew in this ; 

The nestling of the child upon its mother's breast, 
The sweet dreams won us by her " good-night '* 

kiss. 

Lord 1 grant us restfiil sleep, untroubled, sweet 
and calm, 

Not fitful slumbers 'mid Life's fevered dream ; 
Oh, seal our weary eyelids with thy touch of balm 

Kot to re-ope until the Great Day's gleam. 

'^h_ r^ 



2l^*'AS0N]i! WHOM HIS MOTHER COMFOBTETli.* 



And yet we are such cMldren, foolish, weak and 
blind, 
That while we long for sleep, thy gentle hand 
May change the calming cup, and far more wise 
and kind, 
Give needed bitterness with this command : 



« Drink, child I" Thy Father's love shall make the 
unsought draught 
Sweet to thy soul, though bitter to thy lips. 
Think, how for thee, thy sinless Elder Brother 
quaffed 
The cup thou filled'st, 'neath my love's eclipse. 

Ah, Father 1 whatsoe'er thy children truly need 
Thou givBst, not whatever they implore. 

And oft we grieving think, Thy mercy gives no 
heed 
To our rash pleadings, when our hearts are sore. 

But when the long sad lesson we have learned at 
length, 
And with unmurmuring meekness we receive 
The cup, whose bitter draught gives new and 
mighty strength, 
We own Thy wise true love, and no more grieve j 



^ 



^ 



^ ^ — J-[„ 

"^ AS ONE WHOM BISMOTHEE C0MF0RT£rH:^2\b " ^ 

But rest in patient hope, although Thou lone: with- 
hold *= 

The ohalice. Death and Life bnmmed, chris- 
mal seal 
Of conquest at whose touch the pearly gates un- 
fold, 
And Heaven's high glories to the soul reyeal. 

We only wait as minors, till the glad birth-day 
Shall crown us kings before our Father's thi-one. 

As princely exiles here, we struggle, toil, and pray, 
With eyes by watching very weary grown. 

For comfortless, aye, orphan'd. Thou dost never 
make 
Thy children. Trusting hearts are kept in peace, 
And when our night-time comes, Thou'It bid iie 
sleep to wake 
Wliere every sob ia hushed and sorrows cease. 



n 






...tr 



216 MAEY. 




' + 



MARY. 

THE I ox is not of stainless alabaster 
Which o'er thy feet I break ; 
Nor filled with costly ointment, gracious Master, 
Poured for Thy sake. 

Nay, rather is it shapen in this fashion — 

A living heart, 
Dashed all across with scarlet stains of passion, 

And broke in part ; 

While from its open wound comes softly dripping, 

Like slow tears shed, 
Or heavy drops, along thy footstool slipping, 

Its life-blood red. 

It needs no balm of myrrh for sweet or bitter, 

But life and love ; 
The sad conditions make mine offering fitter 

Thy heart to move. 

From all these claims or cruel wrong and anguish, 

This load of grief 
Wherewith my soul doth pant, and mourn, and Ian. 

Give me relief! ["irnish, j— 

I : r: 



EVENING. 217 



In thy far home is not thy soul still tender 

For mortal woe ? 
Hear'st thou not still, amid that spotless splendor 

That seraphs know ? 

O, turn thy human eyes from heavenly glory ! 

Say, as before, 
Those tenderest words of all thy Gospel story ; 

" Go, sin no more !" 



EVENING. 

p ENTLY the dew falls on the grass, 
vT The winds are hushed to rest, 
And softly sinks the crescent moon, 
Adown the quiet west. 

And one by one, as shadows fall. 

The stars come out on high, 
Till in full brightness spreads unveiled, 

The glory of the sky, 

I sit upon the summer hills. 

Far from the noisy throng, 
And hear the modest night-bird sing 

Her low and plaintive song. 

The little streamlets bright and clear, 
I Go singing on their way, _«i 

^^ 1 ^ 



4 ^ 

r— * 218 EVENING. I 

While countless insect voices weave 
Their never-ending lay. 

God, in such an hour as this, 
How yearns the soul to know 

The mysteries of the heavens above 
And of the earth below ! 

An atom in the boundless whole, 
A speck upon the air, 

1 seem as one engulfed and lost, 
Without a Father s care. 

My life I draw, I know not how, 

From the mysterious jDast ; 
Before me stretches all unknown 

A future strange and vast. 

What part have I in this wide realm ? 

What place have I to fill ? 
Or can the smallest issue hang 

Upon my wavering will ? 

Yet folded in these shades of night, 

IMy busy thoughts arise, 
To range afar the fields of earth, 

And wander through the skies. »— 



* ^ 4t 

J niS WATS. 219 



Is there a hand that reaches down 

From out this vast unknown ? 
Is there a love that beckons me 

To the eternal throne ? 

I ask the silent stars above, 

As men have asked of old, 
No voice comes from them, as they look, 

On mountains still and cold. 

The entrance of Thy Word, O God 1 

Alone can break this night, 
And shed o'er all the way I go, 

A clear and living light. 

By faith, I take that blessed Word 

And follow at its call ; 
The God who made the heavens and earth, 

Can see and know them all. 



HIS WA YS. 

I ASKED for grace to lift me high. 
Above the \vorld's depressing cares ; 
God sent me sorrows — with a sigh 
I said, He has not heard my prayers. 

^ ZI ^ 



1^ 



220 HIS WAY^ 




I asked for light, that I might see 

JMy path along life's thorny road ; 
But clouds and darkness shadowed me 

When I expected light from God. 

I asked for peace, that I might rest 

To think my sacred duties o'er, 
When lo ! such horrors filled my breast 

As I had never felt before. 

And O, I cried, can this be prayer 

Whose plaints the steadfast mountains move ? 

Can this be Heaven's prevailing care ; 
And, O my God, is this Thy love ? 

But soon I found that sorrow, worn 

As Duty's garment, strength supplies, 
And out of darkness meekly borne 

Unto the righteous light doth rise. 

And soon I found that fears which stirr'd 

My startled soul God's will to do. 
On me more real peace conferr'd 

Than in life's calm I ever knew. 

Theii, Lord, in Thy mysterious ways 

Lead my dependent spirit on, 
And whensoe'er it kneels and prays. 

Teach it to say, " Thy will be done 1" 

^ : _J^ 



4j ^ 

""^ IN THE HARVEST FIELD. 221 

Let its one thought, one hope, one prayer, 

Thine image seek — Thy glory see ; 
Let every other wish and care 

Be left confidingly to Thee ! 



STBENGTH FOR THE DAY. 

STRENGTH for the day ! At early dawn I stand, 
Helpless and weak, and with unrested eyes, 
Watching for day. Before its portal lies 
A low black cloud — a heavy iron band : 
Slowly the mist is lifted from the land. 
And pearl and amber gleam across the skies, 
Gladdening my upward gaze with sweet surprise ! 
I own the sign : I know that He whose hand 

Hath fringed those sombre clouds with ruby ray. 
And clianged that iron bar to molten gold, 

Will to my wandering steps be guide and stay — 
Breathe o'er my wavering heart His rest for aye, 
And give my waiting, folded palms to hold 

His blessed morning boon — strength for the day 



IN THE HARVEST FIELD. 

r\ LORY to Him who bids the field 
vX Its blessing to our toil to yield, 



-_ Who giveth mucli, who giveth more, | 



^ ^ 

223 IN TME HARVEST J^IELD. ^ 

Till store and basket runneth o'er ; 
Thus, ere the golden skies grow dim, 
Come, let us sing our Harvest hymn. 

His finger on the land doth lay 
Its beauty, stretching far away ; 
His breath doth fill the opal skies 
With grandeur dread to mortal eyes ; 
He gives man harvest from the wild, 
And drops the daisies for the child. 

But oh, how shall we dare draw near ? 
Such power is veiled in mists of fear, 
What can wc'be to One who fills 
The awful silence of the hills. 
Who knows the secrets of the sea, 
The wild beasts in the forests free ? 

But, Lord, we know Thee otherwise — 
A slighted man, with loving eyes, 
Toiling along with weary feet 
Such paths as these among the wheat ; 
Come from the light of Heaven's throne 
To call no home on earth Thine own. 

O Lord, Thou givest bounteous spoil 
To the poor measure of our toil. 
For our few gray dark sowing days 



f 



+s 



NOT AS TEE WOELD GIVETH. 



223 




And what can we give for the pain 
With which Thou sowed immortal grain ? 

Nothing— for all we have is Thine, 
Who need'st not corn, nor oil, nor wine • 
Notliing— unless Thou make us meet 
To follow Thee through tares and wheat, 
And from the storm of wrath and sin 
To help Thee bring Thy harvest in. 



NOT AS THE WORLD GIVETH. 

CLEARER than vision of inspired dreamer ! 
Dearer than hope of glories yet to be ! 
Fall on the heart. Thy words, O blest Redeemer— 
" Not as the world giveth give I unto thee !" 

Not as the world giveth, though her fields are waving 
White with her incense-flowers, like foam upon the 

sea; 
Not though her singing birds their earth-born songs 

are saving 
'Till in the upper air they pour them out to Thee ; 

Not though the fair of earth still with sweet en^ 
deavor, 
L, Set firm white faces 'gainst i\\Q tide of wrono- • 

i-"i- l_rf+ 



t 



ii24 3'Or A^ THE WORLD OIYETR. 

Not though love's monotone and children's voices 

ever 
Hide in the harmonies of earth's purest song ; 

Not though Faith, victorious, seizes Earth's high 

places, 
Sets over all the steady star of Hope ; 
Not though Love that suffereth and is kind, her traces 
Leaves on the soul, that scarce with flesh can cope ; 

Not with earthly splendor, though her days in dying 
Lie down in blue and gold, and wrap themselves in 

flame ; 
Not though the saints of God in her still valleys 

lying, 
Write o'er their res'ing-places, " Hallowed be Thy 

name ;" 

Not as the world giveth, though her trees and 

grasses 
Climb her high mountains and cluster in her clouds ; 
Not as the world giveth, though her fame, that 

passes, 
Gilds with brief glory her kings in purple shrouds : 

Not as the world giveth, though her hand be laden 
Heavy with the jewels earth still holds for man ; 
Not as the world giveth, though a man and maiden 
fc__ Know, for a moment, more than angel can. p—i 

^ — ^ 



f 



H 



A SA no UR' S LO YE. 235 



"^ 



Not such as these, that leave no sign in dying, 
Is the dear Voice — we know it to be true — 
That through the ages to the saints is crying, 
" Not as the world giveth give I unto you." 



A SAVIOUR'S LOVE. 

U T OVE I Thee, Lord ? How much love I ? 

JU Truly, Lord, I cannot tell." 
" Yet thou lov'st Me ?" " Yes, I love Thee, 
Love Thee passing, passing well. 

" I would give all hoped-for glory, 
Gladly yield my slender all. 
To behold Thy face forever. 
At Thy blessed feet to fall. 

" Yes, I love Thee as I never 

Loved upon this earth before ; 
I have loved, intensely, wildly, 
Yet, oh, Lord ! I love Thee more." 

" Try, my child, My love to measure." 

" Rising heights each height transcend." 

" Sink the plummet !" " Lord, 'tis weary, 
And it cannot find the end." 



r+ 



226 BABBOm. 




BABB ONI. 



OF all the niglits of most mysterious dread, 
This elded earth hath known, none matched 
in gloom 
That crucifixion night when Christ lay dead, 
— Sealed up in Joseph's tomb ! 

II. 
No faith that rose sublime above the pain, 

Remembered in its anguish what He said ; 
" After three days and J. shall rise again," 

— Their hopeless hearts were dead. 

ni. 

Throughout the ghastly " Preparation Day," 

How had that stricken mother dragged her breath ! 

— Like all of Adam born, her God-given lay 
Beneath the doom of death. 

IV. 

The prophecy she nursed through pondering years 

Of apprehension, now had found its whole 
Fulfillment, infinite beyond her fears, 
—I — The sword Jiad pierced her soul ! p-i 

"r^ ft*- 



^ ^ 

— ' BABBOm. 227 \ 

Y. 

The vehement tears of Peter well might flow, 
Mixed with the wormwood of repentant shame ; 

Now would he jield his life thrice told, if so 
He might confess the name 

VI. 

He had denied with cm-ses. Fruitless were 
The keen remorses now, the gnawing smart ; 

A heavier stone than sealed the sepulchre 
Was rolled above his heart. 

vn. 
Surprise and grief and bafiied hopes sufficed 

To rush as seas their souls and God between ; 
Yet none of all had mourned the buried Christ, 

As Mary Magdalene. 

VIII. 

When all condemned — He bade her live again, 
When all were hard — His pity moved above 

Her penitent spirit, healed it, cleansed its stain, 
And made it pure with love. 

IX. 

And she had broken all her costliest store 
O'er him whose tenderness, so new, so rare. 

Stood like a strong, white angel evermore 
'Twixt her and mad despair. 



4- 



+tr lL- 

ZJ 2g8 EABBONI. I— 



And He was dead ! — Her peace had died Avith Mm ! 

The demons who had fled at his control, 
"With sevenfold chains within their dungeons dim, 

Would henceforth bind her soul. 

XT. 

How slowly crept the Sabbath's endless week ! 

What aching vigils watched the lingering day, 
When she might stagger through the dark and seek 



The garden where He lay ! 

XII. 

And when she thrid her way to meet the dawn, 
And found the gates unbarred, — a grieving moan 

Broke from her lips — " Who," for her strength was 
" Will roll away the stone V [gone — 

XIII. 

She held no other thought, no hope but this ; 

To look — to touch the sacred flesh once more, — 
Handle the spices with adoring kiss, 

And help to wind him o'er 

XIV. 

With the fair linen Joseph had prepared, — 
Lift reverently the wounded hands and feet, 

And gaze, one blinded, on the features bared, 

And drink the last, most sweet, . 

^ — r^ 



^ — ^ 

XV. 

Divine illusion of his presence tliere ; 

And then, the embalming done, with one low cry 
Of utmost, unappeasable despair, 

Seek out her home and die. 



Lo ! the black square that showed the opened tomb ! 

She sprang — she entered unafraid — and swept 
Her arras outstretching, groping through the gloom, 

To touch Him where He slept. 

xvri. 
Her trembling fingers grasped the raiment cold, 

Pungent with aloes, lying where He lay: 
She smoothed her hands above it, fold by fold, — 

Her Lord was stolen away ! — 

XVIII. 

And others came anon, who wept him sore, — 
Simon and John, the women pale and spent 

With fearful watchings ; wondering more and more 
They questioned, gazed, — and went. 

XIX. 

Kor thus did Mary. Though the livigering gloom 
Parted into brightness, and city's stir 

Came floating upward to the golden tomb, 
There was no dawn for her : 

_ 20 



^ 



230 BABBONL 



^ 



XX. 

No room for faintest hopes, nor utmost fears ; 

For when she sobbing stooped, and saw the twain 
White-clothen angels, through her falling tears, 

Sit where her Lord had lain, — 

XXI. 

And ask, — " Why weepest thou ?" — there brake no 
cry. 

But she with deaden'd calm her answer made : 
" Because they have taken away my Lord, and I 

Know not where He is laid." 

XXII. 

— ^Was it a step upon the dewy grass ? 

"Was it a garment rustled by the wind ? 
Did some hushed breathing o'er her senses pass, 

And draw her looks behind ? 

xxni. 
She turned and saw — the very Lord she sought — 

Jesus, the newly-risen ! . . . but no surprise 
Held her astound and rooted to the spot ; 

Her filmed and holden eyes 

xxrv. 
Had only vision for the swathed form ; 

Nor from her mantle lifted she her face, 
Nor marveled that the gardener's voice should warm 
— • With pity at her case ; — p— • 

"Tn _ rp- 



^J ■ -^ 

•-^ BABBONI. 231 

XXV. 

Till sprang the sudden thought, "If he should 
know :" — 

And then she turned full quickly : " Sir, I jDray 
Tell me where thou hast borne Him, that I may go, 

And take Him thence away." 

XXVL 

The resurrection-morning's broadening blaze 
Shot up behind, and clear before her sight, 

Centered on Jesus its transfiguring rays, 
And hallowed Him with light. 

XXYII. 

" Mary ./"—The measureless pathos was the same 
As when her Lord had said—" Thou art forgiven :" 

Had he, for comfort, named her by her name 
Out from the height of heaven ? 

XXVIII. 

She looked aloft— she listened, turned and gazed ; 

A revelation flashed across her brow ; 
One moment,— and she prostrate fell, amazed,— 

" BabbonH—It is Thou P' 



in ^ r^ 



J 232 TO TBEEl 



TO THEE! 

I BRING my sins to Thee, 
The sins I cannot count, 
That all may cleansed be 

In Thy once-opened fount. 
I bring them, Saviour, ail to Thee ; 
The burden is too great for me. 

My heart to Thee I bring, 
The heart I cannot read ; 

A faithless, wandering thing. 
An evil heart indeed. 

I bring it, Saviour, now to Thee, 

That fixed and faithful it may be. 

To Thee I bring my care, 

The care I cannot flee ; 
Thou wilt not only share, 

But take it all for me. 

loving Saviour ! now to Thee, 

1 bring the load that wearies me. 

I bring my grief to Thee, 

The grief I cannot tell ; 
No words shall needed be, 

Thou knowest all so well. 
I bring the sorrow laid on me, 
suffering Saviour ! all to Thee. 



^ — ^ 



4^ 



INDWELLING. 233 



My joys to Thee I bring, 

The joys Thy love has given, 

That each may be a wing 
To lift me nearer heaven. 

I bring them, Saviour, all to Thee, 

Who hast procured them all for me. 

My life I bring to Thee, 

I would not be my own ; 
O Saviour ! let me be 

Thine ever. Thine alone ! 
My heart, my life, my all I bring 
To Thee, my Saviour and my King. 



INDWELLING, 

IN unto me, Oh Christ, Divine One, come I 
I'll open wide the door. Make me Thy Temple, 
home. 
Cleanse Thou each hidden chamber of my soul ; 
Cure secret sickness, — make me perfect, — whole. 
Cast out — to stay cast out — all love of sin. 
Adorn, with Thine own hand, the dwelling-place 

within. 
Let me Thy presence feel. Mine eyes Thy glory see. 
My guest, abiding guest, oh ! wilt Thou be ? 
Spread Thou the table ; let me sup with Thee — 
Come unto me ! 
— I Oh, come to me ! r~' 



4^ ^ 

■—J 234 INDWELLING. « 

Long years IVe wandered in this world of woe, 
In by-paths strange and devious would I go ; 
With books of learning, I have vainly sought 
To feed my soul — to wholly live on thought, 
Till now half starved, emaciate, poor and lean, 
I find myself all naked, sick, unclean — 
Unfit at any table to appear, 
Convulsed by doubts and sore distressed by fear ; 
Yet still I need Tbee, Lord, and fain would be 
Thy host and guest, from all uncleanness free : 

Come unto me ! 

Oh, come to me ! 

My heart I'll open wide. There's not a room, 
So high or low, but to it Thou shalt come, 
From attic high to cellar dark and drear. 
Where oft I've sought for peace or fled in fear ; 
Where e'en my dearest friend has ne'er been bid ; 
Where all my secret motives have been hid — 
All, all — I open wide — the house is Thine 
Within to dwell, to feast, and evermore to shine. 
Let me belong to Thee ! and be Thou mine, 
My only Guest — my Deity ! — 

Come unto me ! 

Oh, come to me. 

Henceforth I feast ; but at no cost of mine ; 
Henceforth I drink life-giving, heavenly wine ; 
Henceforth, with flowers are crowned my every cup ; 
L_ Henceforth with Jesus as my guest I sup ; r— ■ 

^ — rf- 



I WAIT ON TEE LORD. 235 



4f 



Hencefortti my mind, my heart, my being whole 

Is made a glorious palace for the soul ; 

And at its table, most divinely spread, 

I feast, and feast again, on Living Bread ; — 

Nothing to hide, — there is no future dread ; 

Here, with my Friend, my Brother, Priest and King, 

Joy fills my every sense. His praises now I sing, 

And day by day, new beauties do I see, 

For He has come to me, 

Even unto me. 



WAIT ON THE LORD. 

ONE touch fi-om Thee — the Healer of diseases ; 
One little touch would make our brother whole ; 
And yet Thou comest not — O blessed Jesus ! 

Send a swift answer to our waiting soul. 
Full many a message have we sent, and pleaded 
That Thou wouldst haste Thy coming, gracious 
Lord ; 
Each message was received, and heard, and heeded, 

And yet we welcome no responsive word. 
We know that Thou art blessing whilst withholding ; 

We know that Thou art near us, though apart ; 
And though we list no answer. Thou art folding 

Our poor petitions to thy smitten heart. 
A bright and glorious answer is preparing. 

Hid in the heights of love — the depths of grace ; 
We know that Thou, the Risen, still art bearing 
i~] Our cause as Thine within the holy place. || 

v^ __ q^- 



4^—-^ — 4r 

—- * 236 MT FRAYEB. ' 

And so we trust our pleadings to Thy keeping ; 

So at Thy feet we lay our burden down ; 
Content to bear the earthly cross, with weeping, 

Till at Thy feet w^e cast the heavenly crown. 



MY PRAYER. 

r\ IVE me a song, and I will sing it ! 

\J Give me an offering, I will bring it ! 

Give me Thyself, and I will take Thee ! 

Withdraw Thyself, and I forsake Thee ! 

My land lies fallow : Master, till me ! 

My heart lies empty : Master, fill me ! 

It plays the traitor : Master, win me ! 

It faints ! it dies ! Put new life in me ! 

It goes astray : good Shepherd, lead me ! 

It sighs for hunger : come and feed me ! 

It is so poor ! Give riches to me ! 

It is corrupt: O Lord, renew me ! 

S® ignorant ! Oh ! wilt Thou teach me ? 

Has wandered far ! But Thou canst reach me ! 

Is sore diseased : Physician, heal me ! 

Exposed to danger : oh, conceal me ! 

It trembles ! In Thine arms, oh, fold me ! 

Begins to sink I O Saviour, hold me ! 

Is sinking fast ! Lord, look upon me ! 

So cold and dark ! Oh, shine upon me I 

A poor, lost sinner ! Come and find me I ^^ 

^^r^ — ^ 



^ 



LIGHT OF TEE WORLD. 237 



A rebel ! May Thy love now bind me ! 

A prodigal ! Wilt Thou receive me ? 

A beggar ! Oh ! wilt Thou relieve me ? 

A backslider ! Wilt Thou restore me ? 

Unholy ! May Thy presence awe me ! 

Unfit to die ! O God, prepare me ! 

So weak ! On eagles' wings, oh, bear me ! 

So comfortless ! Lord Jesus, cheer me ! 

So lonely ! God of love, draw near me ! 

By sin accused ! Good Lord, acquit me ! 

Unfit for Heaven's pure service ! Fit me ! 

Unfit for work on earth ! But use me ! 

A suppliant ! Do not Thou refuse me ! 

Oh ! come and fill the hungry with good things : 

For Thou hast all I need, Thou King of kings ! 



LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 

LIGHT of the AYorld ! to Thee I come ! 
All dark with sin am I ; 
Yet is thy light my childhood's home, 
Long lost : now through the earth I roam 
A stranger, wearily. 

Though I am dark, Thou seest me. 

And knowest all my sin ; 
I cannot hide one thought from Thee — 
Kor would I, Lord ! O search, and see 

All that lies hid within ! 



^ 



4^ ■ ^ 



238 XOT LOST. 



h 



Unless I know my Father knows 
The worst that I have done, 

How can I bear the love He shows ? 

How take the gift that love bestows 
On such a guilty one ? 

My Father, lo, all doubting dies I 

I hwic that Thou canst see. 
Outspread before Thy glorious eyes 
My present, past, and future lies ; 
And yet Thou lovest me ! 



NO T LOST. 

THE look of sympathy, the gentle word. 
Spoken so low that only angels heard ; 
The secret art of pure self-sacrifice. 
Unseen by men but marked by angels' eyes ; 
These are not lost. 

The sacred music of a tender strain. 
Wrung from a poet's heart by grief and pain. 
And chanted timidly, with doubt and fear. 
To busy crowds who scarcely pause to hear, 
It is not lost. 

The silent tears that tall at dead of night. 

Over soiled robes which once were pure and white 

1 i 



-h^ 



JERUSALEM ABO VE IS FREE. 239 



4h 



The prayers that rise like incense from the soul, 
Longing for Christ to make it clean and whole ; 
These are not lost. 

The happy dreams that gladdened all our youth, 
When dreams had less of self and more of truth ; 
The childlike faith, so tranquil and so sweet, 
Which sat like Mary at the Master's feet ; 
These are not lost. 

The kindly plans devised for others' good, 
So seldom guessed, so little understood ; 
The quiet, steadfast love that strove to win 
Some wanderer from the woeful ways of sin ; 
These are not lost. 

Not lost, O Lord, for in Thy city bright, 
Our eyes shall see the past by clearer light ; 
And things long hidden from our gaze below, 
Thou wilt reveal, and we shall surely know 
They were not lost. 



^ 



JERUSALEM ABOVE IS FREE. 

I WOULD not stay the years that wing, 
Howe'er my lot be cast, 
Nor say, O sun, look back, and bring 
One day from out the past. 



240 JEB UBALEM ABOVE IS FREE. 



He ever will my portion be 

Whose goodness I recall — 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 

Free are her happy gates to prayer, 

And open night and day, 
The holy lyres are tuneful there 

When earthworn pilgrims pray ; 
There wakes the strain of jubilee 

When helpless sinners call — 
Jerusalem above is free. 

And mother of us all. 

Free are the fadeless bowers of rest, 

And free their joys untold, 
Free are the mansions of the blest, 

And free the streets of gold. 
Though hidden long the glories be 

Salvation is the wall — 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 

Home of my soul ! I praise the Lord 

That made thy comforts free. 
And led me by His faithful word 

To seek my rest in Thee ! 
Though circumscribed my way may be, 

I know, whate'er befall, 
Jerusalem above is free, 
\ And mother of us all. p— 

^^1 ___ ^ 



4±J — -uh 

•""^ LIVING WATERS. 241 

I would not stay the years that wing, 

However my lot be cast, 
Nor say, sun, look back, and bring 

One day from out the past. 
He ever will my portion be 

Whose goodness I recall — 
Jerusalem above is free, 

And mother of us all. 



LIVING WATERS. 

THERE are some hearts like wells, green-mossed 
and deep 
As ever summer saw ; 
And cool their water is — yea, cool and sweet ; — 

But you must come to draw. 
They hoard not, yet they rest in calm content, 

And not unsought will give ; 
They can be quiet with their wealth unspent, 
So self-contained they live. 

And there are some like springs, that bubbling 
To follow dusty ways, [burst 

And run with offered cup to quench his thirst 
Where the tired traveler strays : — 

That never ask the meadows If they want 
What is their joy to give — 

Unasked, their lives to other life they grant — 
, So self-bestow od thev live 1 ^_ 

^ — t — : rp- 



242 AT EVENING. 



And One is like the ocean, deep and wide, 

Wherein all waters fall ; 
That girdles the broad earth, and draws the tide, 

Feeding and bearing all. 
That broods the mists, that sends the clouds abroad 

That takes, again to give ; 
Even the great and loving heart of God, 

Whereby all love doth live. 



A T EVENING. 

UNDER Thy loving care 
Another day has past ; 
Its sacrifice I bear 
To Thee at last. 

Thou knovvest every cros??, 
Each pleasure and each pain ; 

Thou seest what is loss, 
And what is gain. 

These tangled threads of life 

Thou boldest in thy hand. 
And thou their seeming strife 

Dost understand. 

So in thy loving care 

I rest secure, forgiven ; 
Thou wilt the morrow's work prepare, 
— « Or give me Heaven. -J 

^ .^ H 



4J— ^ 

— ^ MT CBOSa. 243 I 

MY GROSS. 

TT is not heavy agonizing woe, 
Bearing me down with hopeless, crushing weight ; 
;No ray of comfort in the gathering gloom ; 
A heart bereaved, a household desolate. 

It is not sickness with her withering hand, 
Keeping me low upon a couch of pain ; 
Longing each morning for the weary night, 
At night for weary day to come again. 

It is not poverty with chilling blast, 
The sunken eye, the hunger-wasted form ; 
The dear ones perishing for lack of bread. 
With no safe shelter from the winter's storm. 

It is not slander with her evil tongue ; 
'Tis not " presumptuous sins " against my God ; 
Not reputation lost, nor friends betrayed ; 
1'hat such is not my cross, I thank my God. 

Mine is a daily cross of petty cares. 
Of little duties pressing on my heart, • 
Of little troubles hard to reconcile, 
Of inward troubles overcome in part. 



k 



My feet are weary in their daily rounds, 
My heart is weary of its daily care, 



^ 



r— i 244 ALOI^E VviIR GOD. 



% 



My sinful nature often cloth rebel : 

I pray for grace my daily cross to bear. 

It is not heavy, Lord, yet oft I jDine ! 

It is not heavy, but 'tis everywhere ; 

By day and night each hour my cross I bear, 

I dare not lay it down— Thou keep'st it there. 

I dare not lay it down ; I only ask 
That, taking up my daily cross, I may 
Follow my Master, humbly, step by step. 
Through clouds and darkness unto perfect day. 



ALONE WITH GOB. 

ALONE with Thee, my God ! alone with Thee ! 
Thus wouldst Thou have it still— thus let it be 
There is a secret chamber in each mind, 

Which none can find 
But He who made it — none beside can know 

Its joy or woe. 
Oft may I enter it, oppressed by care. 

And find Thee there ; 
So full of watchful love, Thou know'st the why 

Of every sigh. 
Then all Thy righteous dealings shall I see, 
Alone with Thee, my God ! alone wdth Thee. 

^ ^ 



ALONE WITH GOD. 245 



^ 



The joys of earth are like a summer's day, 

Fading away ; 
But in the twilight we may better trace 

Thy wondrous grace. 
The homes of earth are emptied oft by death 

With chilling breath ; 
The loved departed guest may ojdc no more 

The well-known door ; 
Still in that chamber seal'd Thou'lt dwell with me, 
And I with Thee, my God ! alone with Thee. 

The world's false voice would bid me enter not 

That hallowed spot ; 
And earthly thoughts would follow on. the track 

To hold me back, 
Or seek to break the sacred peace within. 

With this world's din. 
But, by Thy grace, I'll cast them all aside, 

Whate'er betide ; 
And never let that cell deserted be, 
Where I may dwell alone, my God, with Thee. 

The war may rage ! — keep Thou the citadel,. 

And all is well. 
And when I learn the fullness of Thy love 

With Thee above — 
When every heart oppressed by hidden grief 

Shall gain relief— 
21* 
1 



ly 



4 — 4^ 

*— ' 246 THE BATTLE FOUGHT AND WON. *— » 



When every weary soul shall find its rest 

Amidst the blest — 
Then all my heart, from sin and sorrow free, 
Shall be a temple meet, my God, for Thee I 



THE BATTLE FOUGHT AND WOK 

GOME, Lord, and fight the battle, 
My hands are tired and faint : 
I have no strength to struggle, 

" Consider my complaint." 
One of Thy weakest soldiers 

Is weary in the field, — 
Yet Thine is all the victory, 
Thy love is all my shield. 

'Tis not that I am weary 

Of service done for Thee ; — 
'Tis not that I would alter 

Thy loving will for me — 
Sweet is the vineyard labor, 

Through all the toil and heat ; 
And sweet the lonely night-watch 

Safe resting at Thy feet. 

Yet, Lord, there is a warfare 
No eye but Thine may see ; 
Oh, hear my cry for succor, 
J^ Come Thou, and fight for me. V^* 

tfi _ rt+ 



lL. 

THE BATTLE FOUGHT AND WON. 247 "^ 



The self I cannot conquer, 
The will that still is mine, 

Oh, take them both, Lord Jesus, 
And Eiake them one with Thine. 

Take them ! I cannot yield them— 

I am not what I seemed : 
I have no power, Lord Jesus, 

To do what once I dream'd. 
The yearning of the earth-life, 

Is stronger than my strength ; 
When may the spell be broken. 

And freedom come at length ? 

Like dew on drooping blossoms, 

Like breath from holy place, 
Laden with health and healing 

Come Thy deep words of grace ; 
' Thy strength is all in leaning. 

On One who fights for thee ; 
Thine is the helpless clinging. 

And Mine the victory." 



^ ^ rft 



Ai ^ 

^ MR HOT KNOWmQ. 



NOT KNOWING. 



KNOW not wliat will befall me ! God hangs a 



% 



JL mist o'er my eyes ; 

And o'er each step of my onward path He makes 

new scenes to rise, 
And every joy He sends me comes as a sweet and 

glad sm-prise. 

I see not a step before me, as I tread the days of 

the year, 
But the past is still in God's keeping, the future 

His mercy shall clear, 
And what looks dark in the distance, may brighten 

as I draw near. 

For perhaps the dreadful future has less bitterness 

than I think ; 
The Lord may sweeten the water before I stoop to 

drink. 
Or, if Marah must be Marah, He will stand beside 

its brink. 

It may be there is waiting for the coming of my 

feet 
Some gift of such rare blessedness, some joy so 

strangely sweet, 
That my lips can only tremble with the thanks I 

cannot speak. 



4 " - "t 

MT APPOINTED TUIE. 249 

restful, blissful ignorance ! 'Tis blessed not to 
know ; 

It keeps me quiet in those arms wliich will not let 

me go, 
And hushes my soul to rest on the bosom which 

loves me so. 

So I go on not knowing. I would not if T might ; 

1 would rather walk in the dark with God, than go 
alone in the light, 

I would rather walk with Him by faith, than walk 
alone by sight. 

My heart shrinks back from trials which the future 

may disclose, 
Yet I never had a sorrow but what the dear Lord 

chose ; 
So I send the coming tears back» with the whig 

pered word, " He knows." 



MY APPOINTED TIME. 

I THOUGHT me near the pearly gate, 
I thought I heard the Master call ; 
But I was wrong, and I must wait : 
Not yet ! I have not suffered all. 

I thought I heard the angel's song, 
— j That breaks like some eternal sea ; r- J 

"T ^ ^^ 



4 — ^ 

»-J 250 MY APPOINTED TIME. '^ 

I thought I saw the countless throng 
Bending to God the rev'rent knee. 

I thought I knew the sainted face 

Of many here whom I had known ; 
But glorified with some new grace, 

And into Jesus' likeness grown. 

And, oh, I thought the kingly One, 

My soul delights its Lord to call, 
Rose on my being like a sun ; 

And like a sun outshone them all. 

But I was wrong ; I am not ripe 

To enter on my endless rest : 
Where God's own hand all tears shall wipe, 

And soothe each heavy-laden breast. 

I have a will, yet, of my own : 

The Lord has work for me to do ; 
All earthly things I've not outgrown, 

Nor wholly put on all things new. 

My time appointed I will wait. 

Until my last great change shall come ; 

Then He will open wide the Gate, 
And, satisfied, I shall go home. 

^ ■ ^ 



^ 



LET ME FIND THEE. 



251 ^ 



i^ 



LET ME FIND THEE. 

BEHOLD me here, in grief draw near, 
Pleading at Thy throne, O King ! 
To Thee each tear, each trembling fear, 

Jesus, Son of Man ! I bring. 
Let me find Thee — let me find Thee — 
Me, a vile and worthless thing ! 

Look down in love, and from above, 

With Thy Spirit satisfy ; 
Thou hast sought me. Thou hast bought me, 

And Thy purchase, Lord, am L 
Let me find Thee — let me find Thee, 

Here on earth, and then on high I 

No other prayer to Thee I hear, 

O my Lord, but only this : 
To share Thy grace, to see Thy face, 

And to know Thy people's bliss. 
Let me find Thee — let me find Thee — 

Thee to find is blessedness ! 

Hear the broken, scarcely spoken 
Utterance of my heart to Thee ; 

All the crying, all the sighing, 
Of Thy child accepted be. 

Let me find Thee— let me find Thee ; 
Thus my soul longs vehemently ! 



^ 



-4^ 



253 ENDUBANCE. 



Worldly pleasures, earthly treasures, 
Joys and honors, will not stay: 

They often pain, and, oh ! how vain. 
Looking to eternity ! 

Let me find Thee — let me find Thee- 
Find Thee, O my God, this day I 




ENDURANCE. 

HOW much the heart may bear, and yet not break I 
How much the flesh may suffer, and not die I 
I question much if any pain or ache 

Of soul or body brings our end more nigh. 
Death chooses his own time ; till that is worn, 
All evils may be borne. 

We shrink and shudder at the surgeon's knife ; 
Each nerve recoiling from the cruel steel, 

Whose edge seems searching for the quivering life- 
Yet to our sense the bitter pangs reveal 

That still, although the trembling flesh be torn. 
This, also, can be borne. 

We see a sorrow rising in our way, 

And try to flee from the approaching ill. 
We seek some small escape — we weep and pray — 

But when the blow falls, then our hearts are still, 
Not that the pain is of its sharpness shorn, 
I But that it c-.n be borne. -«* 

^ np- 



BEAD Y FOB ALL 1 253 



* 



"We wind our life about another life — 
We hold it closer, dearer than our own — 

Anon it faints and falls in deadly strife, 

Leaving us stunned, and stricken, and alone ; 

But ah ! we do not die with those who mourn — 
This, also, can be borne. 

Behold, we live through all things — famine, thirst, 
Bereavement, pain ! all grief and misery. 

All woe and sorrow ; life inflicts its worst 
On soul and body — but we cannot die. 

Though we be sick, and tired, and faint, and worn ; 
Lo ! all things can be borne. 



READY FOB ALL! 

U "HEADY, O Master !" with eager lip 
Xi) We cried when the day was new ; 
" And whatsoever Thy high commands, 
Thy servants are waiting with willing hands, 
Prepared both to dare and to do !" 

" Ready, O Master !" — Xo answer came, 
As we waited in weariness long : • 
Had He scorned the hands that were fain to bear 
Their part in the burden — fain to share 
I In the battle, the triumph, the song ? ^^ 

^ ! -^ 



^ ^ 

r-J 254 -f WOULD ffAVS GONF. »— i 

" Ready, O Master !" we cried once more, 
As the long, long hours went by : 
" Tell us Thy will ! Is it woe or shame ; 
We will bear them both, for Thy blessed name, 
For Thy name we would gladly die." 

Softly the answer came — " O child ! 

Not such is My will for thee, 
But only to stand in thy quiet lot. 
Doing its duties and questioning not 

What the wherefore or end may be." 

Infinite love, that has ordered thus ! 

Yet oft it more wearisome seems 
Patiently thus to be serving here, 
Than to carry the banner and sword and spear, 

And fight in the fields of our dreams. 

Patience ! O questioning, wavering heart 1 
Good cheer and glad courage l)e thine ! 
The cup of cold water bestowed in His name. 
Is sweeter than sacrifice, fairer than fame, 
And the service itself is divine ! 



/ WOULD HAVE GONE. 

I WOULD have gone, Uod bade me staj^, 
I woilld have vrorked, God bade me rest ; 
He broke my will from day to day ; 
He read my yearnings unexpressed,. 
•—I And said them iiav. f""" 

"TL- ^ 



4^ — — 4h 

•^ SUBMISSION. 255 

Now I would stay, God bids me go, 
Now I would rest, God bids me work ; 
He breaks my heart, tossed too and fro ; 
My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk 
And ve*x it so. 

I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me ! 
Day after day, I plod and moil, 
But Christ, my Lord, when will it be 
That I may let alone my toil, 
And rest with Thee ? 



^ 



SUBMISSION. 

rS OD'S right-hand angel bright and calm — 
vT Christ's strengthener in the agony — 
Teach us the meaning of that psalm 
Of fullness only known by thee : 
" Thy will be done !" We sit alone, 
And grief within our heart grows strong 
With passionate moaning, 'till thou come, 
And turn it to a song. 

Come when the days go heavily. 

Weighed down with burdens hard to bear ; 

When joy and hope fail utterly. 

And leave us fronted by despair. 

Come not with flattering earthly light — 



i 



I— I 256 SL'BMISION. 



4^ 



But with those clear grand eyes that see 
Beyond the dark, beyond the bright, 
Straight toward Eternity. 

Teach us to work when work seems vain, 
This is half victory over fate — 
To match ourselves against our pain ; 
The rest is done when we can wait. 
Unseal our eyes to see how rife 
With bloom this thorny path may be ; 
And how it leads to heights of life 
Which only thou canst see. 

Content thee — so the angel saith — 
Thy minor makes the triumph strain 
Sound sweeter on celestial breath — 
And God has use for all thy pain. 
His joy thy struggling soul may reach ; 
From the strong slain comes sweetness still, 
And God lets suffering only teach, 
Some best revealings of His will. 

Then strike within our hearts the key ! 
Though only sorrow's note it givQ, 
Yet fit us for Thy Harmony, 
And teach us how to live ! 

O patient watcher over all ! 
If broken lives may best complete 
Thy circle, let our fragments fall 
An offering at Thy feet. 

-%1 . Tp- 



-^ 



ij 



'TWILL NOT BE LOXG. " 257 



'TWILL NOT BE LONG. 

Tjl WILL not be long — this wearying commotion 
X That marks its passage in the human breast 
And, like the billows on the heaving ocean, 

That ever rock the cradle of unrest, 
Will soon subside ; the happy time is nearing, 

When bliss, not pain, shall have its rich increase, 
E'en unto Thee the dove may now be steering 
With gracious message. Wait, and hold thy peace ; 
'Twill not be long ! 

The lamps go out ; the stars give up their shining ; 

The world is lost in darkness for awhile ; 
And foolish hearts give wtiy tp sad repining, 

And feel as though they ne'er again could smile. 
Why muruiur thus, the needful lesson scorning ? 

Oh, read thy teacher and His word aright ! 
The world would have no greeting for the morning, 

If 'twere not for the darkness of the night ; 
^ 'Twill not be long ! 



The doubts, 
AVill seem but as the clouds that low descended 

To yield their pleasure to the parched plain. 

The times of weakness and of sore temptations, 

fc.»^ Of bitter grief and agonizing cry ; ^j 

^ ^^ _ rFf- 



■f-s 



258 ' T WILL NOT BE L ONG. 



These earthly cares and ceaseless tribulations 

"Will bring a blissful harvest by-and-by — 

'Twill not be long ! 

'Twill not be long ; the eye of faith discerning, 

The wondrous glory that shall be revealed, 
Instructs the soul, that every day is learning 

The better wisdom which the world concealed. 
And soon, aye, soon, there'll be an end of teaching 

When mortal vision finds immortal sight, 
And her true place the soul in gladness reaching, 

Beholds the glory of the Infinite. 
'Twill not be long ! 

" 'Twill not be long ! the heart goes on repeating ; 
. It is the burden of the mourner's song ; 
The work of grace in us he is completing, 

Who thus assures us — ■'' It will not be long." 
His rod and staff our fainting steps sustaining, 

Our hope and comfort every day will be ; 
And we may bear our cross as uncomplaining 
As He who leads us unto Calvary ; 
'Twill not be long 1 



n^ np- 



4^ 



THE NOBLE ABMY OF MJMTTHS. 259 U 



THE NOBLE AUMY OF MART YES 
PEAI8E TREE, 



IVrOT they alone who from the bitter strife 
11 Came forth victorious, yielding willino-ly 
That which they deem most precious, even Ufe 

Content to suifer all things, Christ, for Thee'- 
Not they alone whose feet so firmly trod 

The pathwav ending in rack, sword and flame 
Foreseeing death, yet faithful to their Lord 

Enduring for His sake the pain and shame 
JNot they alone have won the martv.'s palm 
I^ot only from their lips proceeds the eternal psalm. 

For earth hath martyrs now, a saintly throng, 

Each day unnoticed do we pass them by • ^ ' 
'Mid busy crowds they calmly move along ' 

Bearing a hidden cross, how patiently f' 
Not theirs the sudden anguish, swift and keen 

Their hearts are worn and wasted with small cares 
With daily griefs and thrusts from foes unseen ' 

Iroubles and trials that take them unawares • 
Theirs is a hngering, silent martyrdom, 
Tliey weep through weary years, and long for rest 
to come. 

They weep, but murmur not ; it is God^s will 
I And tliey have learned to bend their own to His, 



Aa q^ 

—J 260 -5^ STILL, AND EXOW TEAT I AM GOD. 



Simply enduring, knowing that each ill 
Is but the herald of some future bliss ; 

Striving and suffering, yet so silently 

They know it least who seem to know them best, 

Faithful and true through long adversity, 

They w^ork and wait until God gives them rest ; 

These surely share with those of bygone days, 

The palm-branch and the crown, and swell their 
song of praise. 



L 



BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD. 

BE still, my child ! 
I trod this way before ; 
My hand shall guide thee thro' the wild, 
Ask nothing more. 

Be still, my child ! 

I love thee first and last, 
On Me, thy Saviour meek and mild. 

Thy sorrows cast. 

Be still, my child ! 

Leave all thy joys and fears, 
I know thy hopes and longings wild, 

I see thy tears. 

Be still, my child ! 

My hand shall make the whole ; 



r^ 



J^SUS, SAVIOUR, PILOT 2IE, ggl 



^ 



From every sin that hath defiled, 
Shall cleanse thy soul. 

Be still, my child ! 

And thou shalt feel My grace ; 
Come with a spirit meek and mild 

Before My face. 

Be still, my child ! 

And I will give thee peace ; 
When once My face on thee hath smiled, 

Thy woes shall cease. 

Be still, my child ! 

Until I call thee Home, 
Then from thy wandering in the wild, 

Arise, and come ! 



JESUS, SAVIOUR, PILOT ME. 

JESUS, Saviour, pilot me 
Over life's tempestuous sea : 
Unknown waves before me roll 
Hiding rock and treacherous shoal ; 
Chart and compass came fi-om Thee : 
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. 

When the Apostles' fragile bark 
Struggled with the billows dark, 



4 



^ 



^ 



262 JUSUS, SA no UR, FIL OT ME. 



On the stormy Galilee, 
Thou didst walk upon the sea ; 
And when they beheld Thy form, 
Safe they glided through the storm. 

Though the sea be smooth and bright, 
Sparkling with the stars of night, 
And my ship's path be ablaze 
With the light of halcyon days, 
Still I know my need of Thee ; 
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me ! 

When the darkling heavens frown, 
And the wrathful winds come down, 
And the fierce waves, tossed on high, 
Lash themselves against the sky, 
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me 
Over life's tempestuous sea. 

As a mother stills her child 
Thou canst hush the ocean wild ; 
Boisterous waves obey Thy will 
When Thou sayest to them, " Be still." 
Wondrous Sovereign of the sea, 
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. 

When at last I near the shore, 
And the fearful breakers roar 
'Twixt me and the peaceful rest, 




^ ^ 

"^ TtUAW XIGR 10 GOD, ETC. 263 

Then, while leaning on Thy breast, 
May I hear Thee say to me, 
' Fear not^ I will pilot thee /" 



''BBAW NIGH TO GOD, AND HE WILL 
DRAW NIGH TO TOW 

WEARY and faint 
Our garments stained with sin and soiled 
with tears — 
Not tears that fall like blessed summer rain. 

But heavy drops of pain, 
Wrung from the heart's deep passion and distress, 
Wrung from the yearning of its tenderness — 
Thus — with the guilt and grief of days and years 
We do draw nigh. 

Yes — we draw nigh ! 
We are not worthy, Lord, to seek Thy face — 
Not worthy — for our need is all our plea — 

Yet may we come to Thee — 
Nor fear to bring our darkness to Thy light, 
All pure and holy in Thy perfect sight, 
Clad in the white robe of our Saviour's grace — 

So we draw nigh. 

Yes, we draw nigli — 
To Thee, the Comforter, we come for peace, — 
Thou knowest, Lord, our weakness and our fear, 
"^ . And Thou wilt surely hear, — r-* 

"Tn : — ^ rt+- 



^ 



264 TO MYSLLF. 



Wilt hear the cry that from life's wild wide sea 
Rises from hearts that only cling to Thee ; — 
One look, one w^^rd, can bid our anguish cease — - 
So we draw nigh. 

Thou wilt draw nigh ! 
Father— it is no dream that Thou art near — 
No dream that, in my sin and misery, 

I may look up to Thee, — 
May hide beneath the shadow of Thy wings, 
From all the restlessness of outward things, 
And from my own heart's self-accusing fear — 

For Thou art nigh ! 



TO MY8ELF. 

LET nothing make thee sad or fretful, 
Or too regretful. 
Be still ; 
What God hath ordered must be right, 
Then find in it thine own delight, 
My will. 

Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow 
About to-morrow, 

My heart ? 
One watches all with care most true, 
Doubt not that He will give thee, too, 

Thy part. 



f 



4r 4, 

''TEE LORD KXOWETH.'' 265 

Only be steadfast, never waver, 
Nor seek earth's favor, 

But rest : 
Thou knowest what God wills must be, 
For all His creatures, so for thee, 

The best. 



'^ THE LORD KNOWETW 

THE Lord knoweth where each flower groweth 
That bloometh for Him 'midst these earthly 
fields. 
Though men despise it, He will fondly prize it, 
Welcome the offering that its fragrance yields. 

The Lord knoweth when the rough wind bloweth 

Upon the weary and the laden one ; 
With tender feeling for the suppliant kneeling, 

He shields and strengthens till the storm is done. 

The Lord knoweth when each hot tear floweth 
From eyes of those who suffer while they pray. 

He knows their sorrow, in the glad to-morrow 
Will wipe in gentleness those drops away. 

The Lord knoweth when each servant soweth 

With heavy heart and seemingly in vain ; 
When, after sleeping, there will come the reaping, 
. — I Will grant glad harvests where they toiled in pain. ^ 



4 ^ 

266 QUIJSTS OF TEE HEART. 

The Lord knoweth when the mourner goeth 
To weep her loneliness by cherished grave. 

Unseen He speaketh to the heart that breaketh : 
'' I can restore him, for 'tis I that save." 

The Lord knoweth when the wand'rer tliroweth 

Some little incense on His altar-fire ; 
Sees his contrition, welcomes his petition, 

Tells his repentance to the heavenly choir. 

The Lord knoweth when the slow pulse showeth 
That we are drawing near to Jordan's strand. 

"When our heart faileth, then His strength availeth, 
And brings us safely to the better land. 

The Lord knoweth ! If your faint heart troweth 

It is uncared for by its God above, 
Oh ! doubt no longer, but in this be stronger : 

He knoweth all things, and His name is Love. 



GUESTS OF THE HEART. 

SOFT falls through the gathering twilight 
The rain from the dripping eaves, 
And stirs with a tremulous rustle 
The dead and the dying leaves ; 
While. afar, in the midst of the shadows, 

I hear the sweet voices of bells, 
Come borne on the wind of the Autumn 
— I That fitfully rises and swells. r"* 

^n__ rt*- 



4^ ^ 

,-J GUESTS OF TEE HEART. 267 

They call and they answer each other, 

They answer and mingle again, 
As the deep and the shrill in an anthem 

Make harmony still in their strain. 
As the voices of sentinels mingle 

Tn mountainous regions of snow, 
Till from hill-top to hill-top a chorus 

Floats down to the valleys below. 

The shadows, the fire-light of even, 

The sound of the rain's distant chime, 
Come bringing, with rain softly di opping, 

Sweet thoughts of a shadowy time ; 
The slumberous sense of seclusion, 

From storm and intruders aloof, 
We feel when we hear in the midnight 

The patter of rain on the roof. 

When the spirit goes forth in its yearnings 

To take all its wanderers home ; 
Or, afar in the regions of fancy, 

Delights on swift pinions to roam, 
I quietly sit by the fire light — 

The fire-light so bright and so warm — 
For I know that those only who love me 

Will seek me through shadow and storm. 

But should they be absent this evening. 

Should even the household depart, 
Deserted, I should not be lonely. 

There still would be guests in my heart. 



^ 



TEE JOYFUL CALL. 



The faces of friends that I cherish. 

The smile, and the glance, and the tone, 

Will haunt me wherever 'I wander, 
And thus I am never alone. 

With those who have left far behind them 

The joys and the sorro\N s of time — 
Who sing the sweet songs of the angels 

In a purer and holier clime ! 
Then darkly, O evening of Autumn, 

Your rain and your shadows may fall : 
My loved and my lost ones you bring me — 

My heart holds a feast with them all. 




THE JOYFUL CALL. 

OH, wayward soul, 
Dost thou not see the beckoning hand ? 
Dost thou not hear the blest command, 
The Saviour's call ? 
He bids thee now rejoice. 
Must His beseeching voice 
On deaf ears fail ? 

Oh, fainting heart. 
Torn by so many doubts and fears. 
Struggling midst many sighs and tears 
In anguish sore, 
Oh, raise thy tear-dimmed eyes 
Upward, above the skies, 

Forever more. _«. 

^ — . ^ 



•^ 



't: 

THE TRUST OT TEE TRIED. 269 

Arise and go, 
The blessed Lord bath need of thee. 
Hear even now His tender plea ; 
Be of good cheer. 
He'll be thy dearest friend, 
Keep thee unto the end ; 
Be ever near. 

Take up thy cross. 
Then shalt thou find the burden light, 
The path made straiglit, the way all bright, 
Thy warfare cease. 
So shalt thou win thy crown, 
At last thy life lay down 
In perfect peace. 

A little while 
To toil below for His dear sake. 
Then sweetly sleep in Him and wake 
To thy reward ! 
Oh, holy, haj^py rest ! 
To be forever blest 

In Christ thy Lord. 



THE TRUST OF TEE TRIED. 

TO God's all-gracioas heart and mind 
My heart and mind I yield ; 
In seeming loss my gain I find, 
In death, life stands revealed. 
23-^ 



-* *!- 

r-J 270 THE TMU8T OF THE TRIED l— , 

I am His own whose glorious throne 

In highest heaven is set ; 
Beneath His stroke or sorrow's yoke 

His heart upholds me yet. 

There is but one tiling cannot fail, 

That is my Father's love ; 
A sea of troubles may assail 

My soul, — 'tis but to prove 
And train my mind, by warnings kind, 

To love the good through pain ; 
When firm I stand, full soon His hand 

Can raise me up again. 

Yet oft we think, is aught withdrciwn 

That flesh and blood desire, 
Our joy is lost, o'ercast our dawn, 

And faith and courage tire ; 
With toil and care our hearts we wear, 

O'er our lost hope we brood ; 
Nor think that all that doth befall 

Is meant to work our good. 

But when God rules it must be so. 

It must bring joy again ; 
What now we deem but cross and woe 

Shall turn to comfort then. 
Have patience still. His gracious will 

Through thickest cloud shall gleam'; 
Then torturing fears, and hopeless tears, 

Shall vanish like a urcam. 



+^ 



^ 



THE TRUST OF TEE TRIED. 271 



The field can never bear its fruits, 

Save winter storm and freeze ; 
Man's goodness withers at its roots 

In days of constant ease ; 
The bitter draught of aloes quaffed, 

Healtli tints the cheeks once more ; 
So to our heart can sorrow's smart 

New energy restore. 

Then, O my God, with joy I cast 

My load of care on Thee ; 
Take me, and while this life shall last 

Do as Thou wilt with me. 
Send weal or woe, as Thou shalt know 

Will teach me their true worth, 
And fit me best to stand their test. 

And show Thy glory forth. 

If happy sunshine be Thy gift. 

With joy I take it. Lord ; 
If o'er dark stormy seas I drift, 

I hear Thy guiding v/ord ; 
If lengthened life, with blessings rife. 

Before my feet be. spread, 
So Thou my guide wilt still abide. 

With joy that path I tread. 

But must I walk the vale of death 
Tlirough sad and sunless ways ? 

I pass along in quiet faith, 
Thy glance my fear allays ; 



^ 



r 



272 GOXE. 



Through the dark laud my Shepherd's hand 

Leads to an end so bright, 
That I shall there with praise declare, 

That all God's ways are right ! 



a N E . 

LIST to the midnight lone ! 
The church clock speaketh with a solemn tone- 
Doth it no more than tell the time ? 
Hark ! from that belfry gray, 
In each deep-booming chime, which, slow and clear. 
Beats like a measured bell upon my ear, 
A stern voice seems to say : 

Gone— gone ; 
The hour is gone— the day is gone ; 
Pray! 

The air is hushed again, 

But the darkness woos to sleep in vain, 

O Soul ! we have slept too long. 

Yes, dreamed the morn away 
In visions false, and feverish unrest, 
Wasting the work-time God hath given and blest. 

Conscience grows pale to see 

How, like a haunting face, 
My youth stares at me out of gloom profound : 
With raylcss eves, black as the darkness round, 

^ ■ ^ 



J GONE. 273 I.,; 

And "waiting lips wLicli say : 

Gone — gone; 
The morn is gone — tlie morn is gone ; 

Pray ! 

Woe for the wasted years 

Born bright with smile:::, but buried with sad tears, 

Their tombs have been prepared 

By Time, that gravesman gray ; 
Soul, we may weejj to count each stone. 
And read the epitaph engraved thereon 

By that stern carver's hand. 

Yet weep not long, for Hope, 
Steadfast and calm, beside each headstone stands 
Gazing on Time, with upward-pointing hands. 

Take we this happy sign, 

Up ! let us work and pray. 

Thou in whose sight the hoary ages fly 
Swift as a summer's noon, yet whose stern eye 

Doth note each moment lost. 
So let me live, that not one hour misspent 
May rise in judgment on me, penitent, 

But, till the sunset, Lord, 

So in Thy vineyard toil. 
That every hour a priceless gem may be, 
To crown the blind brows of Eternity. 



^ rp- 



-* — -— — ^ 



274 BOCK OF AGES. 



BOCK OF AGES. 

'^ T) OCK of Ages, cleft for me "— 

iS) Thoughtlessly the maiden sung. 
Fell the words unconsciously, 

From her girlish, gleeful tongue ; 
Sang as little children sing ; 

Sang as sing the birds in June ; . 
Fell the words like light leaves down 

On the current of the tune — 
" Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in Thee." 

" Let me hide myself in Thee," 

Felt her soul no need to hide : 
Sweet the song as song could be — 

And she had no thought beside ; 
All the words unheedingly 

Fell from lips untouched by care, 
Dreaming not they each might be 

On some other lips a prayer — 
" Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in Thee." 

" Rock of Ages, cleft for me '' — 
'Twas a woman sung them now. 
Pleadingly and prayerfully ; 

Every word her heart did know. 
Rose the song as storm-tossed bird 
■^ Beats with weary wing the air, p- 

tfi : Tp- 



4^ — ^ 

•—I ROCK OF A QES. oiyK ' — i 



^ 



BOCK OF AGES. 375 



Every note with sorrow stirred - 
Every syllable a prayer — 
" Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in Thee." 



" Rock of Ages, cleft for me " — 
Lips grown aged sung the hymn 
Trustingly and tenderly — 

Voice grown weak and eyes grown dim. 
** Let me hide myself in Thee " — 

Trembling though the voice and low, 
Ran the sweet strain peacefully, 

Like a river in its flow. 
Sung as only they can sing, 

Who behold the promised rest — 
" Rock of Ages cleft for me. 

Let me hide myself in Thee." 



*' Rock of Ages, cleft for me " — 

Sung above a coflSn lid; 
Underneath, all restfully, 

All life's joys and sorrows hid. 
Never more, O storm-tossed soul, 

Never more from wind or tide, 
Never more from billow's roll, 

Wilt thou need thyself to hide. 
Could the sightless, sunken eyes. 

Closed beneath the soft gray hair, 



+y~*276 " UNTIL HE come:' M 

Could the mute and stiffened lips 
Move again in pleading prayer, 
Still, aye, still, the words would be, 
" Let me hide myself in Thee." 



UNTIL RE gome:' 



6i 



TILL He come !"— oh, let the words 
Linger on the trembling chords* 
Let the little while between, 
In their golden light be seen ; 
Let us think how heaven and home 
Lie beyond that " Till He come." 

When the weary ones we love 

Enter on their rest above. 

Seems the earth so poor and vast, 

All our life-joy overcast ? 

Hush ! be every murmur dumb ; 

It is only " Till He come." 

Clouds and conflicts round us press ; 
Would we have one sorrow less ? 
All the sharpness of the cross, 
All that tells the world is loss, 
Death and darkness and the tomb 
Only whisper, '• lill He come." 

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-jjr ^ 

PRATING. 277 

See, the feast of love is si^read ! 
Drink the wine and break the bread ; 
Sweet memorials !— till the Lord 
Call us round His heavenly board ; 
Some from earth, from glory some,' 
Severed only— till He come. 



PRA YIJ!fG. 

pLOSE, close, beloved mine, 

VJ Around my heart entwine. 
In Love's strong clasping, as I hold thee, so. 

Above the sky that leans 

Over these death ful scenes. 
To Him, the Eternal Life and Love, we go. 

. Back from His awful light, 

Back from consuming sight. 
Of glory infinite, His cherubim 

Stand reverently veiled. 

Before His splendor paled, 
All majesty, all brightness waneth dim. 

Yet see, anear His feet. 
White-robed, and chanting sweet 
Their song of love, His ransomed myriads bow. 
For them, on cruel rood, 
— I Did Jesus give His blood ; — -j 

-}- ^ Nearest o^f^all in Heaven, they worship now. Jlf 



278 I'JR^ TING. 



Think ! is our yearning love 

Caught from His heart above ? 
Then haste we, blend our voices with that choir. 

In noblest strains they pour ; 

We vie with them, and soar 
Until our souls are with His love on fire. 

Alas ! not rapturous strain, 

Unsaddened now with pain, 
Befits us, until Life's fleet changes cease. 

Our sinning we confess. 

Our needs we meekly press, 
And crave the seal-kiss of His hallowed peace. 

Merciful ! we pray. 

Absolve our guilt away; 
Give victory against temptation still ; 

With cheerful grace endue 

These hearts that, weeping, sue 
Too oft for respite from Thy blessed will. 

In us Thy will be done. 

Touch Thou the spirit tone 
That brings our life with Thine in sweet accord, 

In sacred oneness bound, 

Circled by love profound, 
Thy Love — enfold us to Thy bosom, Lord. 



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% 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



PAGE 

A Prayer for You 12i 

And they shall see His Face 50 

Aboundinsf in Hope 92 

An Open Door 98 

- Affliction. 119 

" As One whom his Mother Comforteth " 233 

At Evening 242 

Alone with God 244 

A Saviour's Love 225 

Bread upon the Waters 182 

Because He first Loved us 210 

Be still, and Know that I am God 260 

Christ Risen 6?. 

Cast Down, but not Destroyed 91 

Child on the Judgment-Seat, The 109 

Christ's Call to the Soul 141 

Contentment 180 

Come unto Me 1 37 

Celestial Country, The 191 

Day of Rest, The 153 

Death of a Believer, The 20 

" Draw nigh to God, and He will draw to You." 263 

Even as Thou Wilt 1 ; 7t; 

Everlasting Memorial, The 81 

Earth and Heaven 22 

Evening 21 7 

Endarance 252 

Fruitless Toil 131 

Glory Dwelleth in Immanuel's Land 55 

i«- Giver and the Gifts, The 167 ^ 

^ _Z rf 



{-- 



280 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



GoTellJesus! 188 

Gone 272 

Guests of the Heart 2C6 

He Goeth before Them 63 

His Name 65 

He Giveth Songs in the Night 93 

House of God, The 107 

He Leads us On 117 

Holy Ghost ! Dispel our Sadness 118 

HearMyCry 129 

Have Faith in God 181 

Hold On, Hold In, Hold Out 1 187 

HeKnowethAll 13 

Homewards 14 

Hymn 85 

His Truth shallhe thy Shield and Buckler 143 

His Ways 219 

In Suffering 50 

Is this All? 123 

Is There no Balm in GUead ? 137 

I am Christ's and Christ is Mine 149 

In all Time of Tribulation 160 

I will Arise and Go to my Father 169 

I Shall be Satisfied 176 

IntheCloset 49 

Indwelling 233 

I Would Have Gone 254 

In the Harvest Field 221 

Jacob's Ladder 71 

Jesus, I am Never Weary 177 

Jerusalem Above is Free 239 

Jesus, Saviour, Pilot Me 261 

Kneeling at the Threshold 31 

Knocking, ever Knocking 66 

Light of the World, The 114 

""-» JLove that Passeth Knowledge, The 156 I * 

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4+ 



INDEX TO SV EJECTS. 281 



Looking unto Jesus ^ 

Loving Cup, The 16 

Lord ai-e there Few that be Saved ? 2C 

Lord, Thou art Mine ! .28 

Leave God to Order all Thy Ways 33 

Light of the World 237 

Living Waters 241 

Let Me Find Thee 251 

Mystery of Christ, The 165 

Marah ""^ 

My Cross 243 

My Prayer ^3 

Mary 21G 

My Appointed Time.. 249 

Nearest and Dearest ^5 

Now I lay Me Down to Sleep 112 

Nothing but Leaves l'^2 

Night Song •• 10 

NotLost 238 

Not as the World Giveth 223 

Not Knowing 248 

Other World, The 51 

Open Thou our Eyes 125 

Other Side, The 147 

Offering, The 185 

Only our Love 47 

Paul Gerhardt's Hymn ••• IT^ 

Psalm for New Year's Eve, A 189 

Per Pacem, Ad Luccm '^^ 

Praying 27T 

Rest Remaineth 1'5'5 

Rest for the Weary 184 

Rabboni 226 

•—J ReadyforAllI 253 _. 

ll^Kockof Ages 2TA | | 

^ 24* _Z TfT 



282 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



^ 



Sick and in Prison. . i gjl 

Surely, I Come Quickly 62 

Sorrowing, yet Always Rejoicing 100 

Submission ^21 

Shadows of the Past 126 

Satisfied 151 

Shulamite at the Lord's Feet, The 155 

Sheep-Track. The 158 

Shadow of the Eock, The 7 

Spiritual Temple, The 44 

Sinner's Friend, The 17 

Strength for the Day 221 

Submission 255 

" Take Heart of Grace " 2(>8 

The " E'en brings a' Hame " 06 

Two Sunsets, The 77 

Two Villages, The 83 

TrustandKest , 106 

Trust 13(j 

Two Worlds, The 139 

Two Angels, The 135 

Their Names 142 

Two 142 

The Way is Long and Dreary 19 

To Thee 232 

The Battle Foixght and Won 246 

'Twill not be Long 257 

The Noble Army of Martyrs Praise Thee 259 

To Myself 264 

" The Lord Knoweth." : 265 

The Joyful Call j 268 

The Trust of the Tried 269 

Upward where the Stars are Burning 15. 

Undertake for Me 2}t 

Undiscovered Country, The 2't 

Unseen Battle-Field, The 38 

" rutil He Come." 27'5 




4^ ^ 

INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 283 

Visitation of the Sick 163 

Wliy Dost Thon Wait 79 

Wayside Watcher, The 84 

Weep Not for Her 97 

Waiting for Spring 103 

Waking 170 

We shall see Him as He Is 179 

Without Money and Without Price 40 

We Stood Beside the River 29 

We Glory in Tribulation 34 

Waiting for Christ 105 

Wait on the Lord 235 



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INDEX TO FIRST LmUK 



As thcee that watch for day. ^ "^^^ 

Art thon weary ? Art thou languid ?...........[ oL 

And whither came these goodly stores. . 44 

Ah many a time we look on starlit nlghts.V.w.' alexandek. 71 

All the day you sit here idle cTa 

As the harp-strings only render 



119 

125 



And he drew near and talked with them. 

A friend stands at the door.. " * 

Alone with Thee, my God I alone with liee I.' .' .' . .' .' ." .' .' .' .' .' .' " .' 344 

Eury thy sorrow 

Be thou content; be still before ...'." H^ 

^:s^':s{^ ""*"^" "^"' "-"»• ■™""- ^' 

'' S. L, GOODWIN. 2e0 

Cometh sunshine after rain 

Come, drink ye, drink ye, all of itV. ". '. *. ' ". ". '. " ^^.a 'shiptov 1 r 
Could we but know shipton. 16 

cometojesusiareyouioneiy. ;;;;::;;;;;;;KNASHn.T0K: To 

Clearer than vision of inspired dreamer • ooq 

Close, close, beloved mine .■'■.".' ' ' ctgnuV 2-- 

Come, Lord, and fi'>^ht thp hfltfio "" 

lu, aim ii„ni me Dattle hettt bowman. 246 

Dropping down the troubled river ^onar 14 

Father, thy will, not mine, be done. 
Fret not, poor soul. 



60 



^ 



while doubt and fear -, «« 

Fair soul created in the primal hour .". 

Gently the dew falls on the grass.. . .bev. i. k. tarbox, b.d 217 

Glory to Him who bids the field 

Give me a song, and I will sinc^ it j 

God's right-hand angel bright and calm"..'. '.■.■. cabl ■spenckr. 



141 

73 
217 
221 
236 I 






INDEX TO FIIiST LIXES. 285 



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V 



He leads us on 117 

Hold on, my heart, in thy beliaving 187 

Heart, he still 10 

Have faith in God, for He who reigns on high 1 SI 

Have mercy on me. Lord ! c. 76 

Hope, Christian soul ! in every stage 92 

Holy Ghost, dispel our sadness 118 

How much the heart may bear, and yet not breaic ! 252 

I'm kneeling at the threshold gtjtheie. 31 

I ask if thou canst love me still, O God ! IGO 

It lies around us like a cloud h. beecher stowe. 51 

I do not ask, O Lord 1 that life may be a. a. proctok. 75 

It was the Sabbath's blessed hour 95 

I have done at length with dreaming. 170 

In the quiet nursery chambers. 112 

I marvel night and day and cannot cease 1G5 

Is there no balm in Gilead ? 137 

I have a Saviour ! He's pleading in glory 127 

In the moonlight when no murmur 114 

I love Thee, O my God ! but not teancis zavieb. 210 

I asked for grace to lift me high j, s. d. monsell, d.d. 219 

I bring my sins to Thee 232 

In unto me, oh. Christ, Divine One, come ! a. w. d. 233 

It is not heavy agonizing woe 243 

I would not stay the years that wing, hrzekiah butter- 

WORTH. 239 

I know not what will befall me 1 God hangs a mist o'er 

my eyes 248 

I thought me near the pearly gate. . .rev. j. e. rankin, d.d. 249 

I would have gone, God bade me stay , 254 

•Jesus, I am never weary 177 

Jesus, Saviour, pilot me rev. edward hopper, d.d. 261 

Knocking, knocking, ever knocking . . .n. beecher stoave. 69 

Lord, thou art mine bonak. 2S 

Leave God to order all thy ways george neumaek. 33 

Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest. . .henry f. byte. 149 



-if- 



4^ ~~^ 

r-J 286 INDEX TO FlJiST LINES. L-, 

Lord, I have toiled all night 131 

Lord, Thou hast sought this wayward heart, .w. k. we ale. 116 

Lord, whilo the shadows of the past surveying 126 

Light of the World, to Thee I come 1 237 

" Love I Thee. Lord ? How much love I ? 225 

List to the midnight lone ! 272 

Let nothing make thee sad or fretful paul Fleming. 2G4 

Much have I borne, but not as I should bear 91 

Not what I am, O Lord, but what Thou art 1 156 

Not long, not long. The spirit- wasting fever 184 

No bird-song floated down the hill john g. whittieb. 77 

No sorrow is unmingled here 100 

No more, my own Lord Jesus 1 185 

Not as He was, a homeless stranger 179 

Not here, not here I not where the sparkling waters ITS 

Nothing but leaves ; the spirit grieves 172 

Not they alone who from the bitter strife 259 

O Jesus ! friend unfailing 151 

Oh, day most calm, most bright 15;^ 

Once slow and sad the evening fell 107 

Oh, never say that the door is shut 98 

O wonderful I round whose birth-hour., re v. w. Alexander 65 

O Thou ! the contrite sinner's friend, .charlotte elliott. 17 

O Holy Saviour ! Friend unseen charlotte elliott. 35 

Oh, strong to save and bless bonak. 129 

. One touch from Thee--the Healer of diseases . . . . 225 

Over the river on the hill henry w. longfellow S3 

O'er the distant mountains breaking 62 

Oh, thou ! who tossing on life's troubled ocean h. n. c. 208 

Of all the nights of most mysterious dread, .m. j. pkeston. 226 

Oh, wayward soul 2GS 

Poor trembling lamb, ah I who outside the fold 79 

Poor heart, why throb thus wildly in my breast 155 

Peace to this House ! O Thou, whose way 163 

Rest remaineth ; oh, how sweet ! 175 



+-^ 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 287 



L 



" "Ready, O Master !" with eager lip jiabel, 253 

" Rock of Ages, cleft for me " 274 

Say BOt 'twas all in vain 1 182 

Saviour I by thy sweet compassion 160 

Sweet thought, my God ! that on the palms 142 

Sometimes I catch sweet glimpses of His face 123 

Since Thy Father's arm sustains thee 121 

" So will I comfort you," as when a sobbing child l. 213 

Strength for the day I At early dawn I stand. rachel g. 

ALSOP. 221 

Soft falls through the gathering twilight 266 

The child leans on its parent's breast isaac williams. 120 

The path I trod so pleasant was, and fair 167 

The winds blow fierce across the barren wild j. h. t. 63 

The Shadow of the Rock faeek. 7 

The twilight falls, the night is near 13 

The way is long and dreary Adelaide a. proctor. 19 

The apostle slept ; a light shone in the prison james j. 

BURNS. 20 

The roseate hues of early dawn 22 

The sands of time are sinking 55 

The air is stirred with holy life d. b. d. 49 

The foe behind, the deep before john mason neale. 53 

Two angels, one of Life and one of Death 133 

Two worlds there are, to one our eyes we strain 133 

Two buds plucked from the tree 142 

Two ways ! only two ! One leadeth 158 ' 

To do Thy holy will ! george cooper. 47 

Thou, Lord, my path shalt choose 42 

There is an unseen battle-field 88 

The world is very evil lyi 

The bos is not of stainless alabaster 216 

The look of sympathy, the gentle word 238 

There are some hearts like wells, green-mossed and deep. 

CARL spencer. 241 

To God's all-gracious heart and mind paul geehardt. 269 

'Twill not be long— this wearying commotion 217 



288 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



" Till He come I"— oh, let the words, kev. e. h. bicker- 

STETH. 276 

The Lord knoweth where each flower groweth g. z. g. 265 

Upward where the stars are burning bonar 12 

Upon the hills the wind is sharp and cold 08 

Up, and away, like the dew of the morning bonar. 81 

Under Thy loving care h. n. e. 242 

We wait for Thee, all glorious One 1 105 

Whether there many be or few 26 

We praise Thee oft for hours of bliss — john page hopps. 93 

Who would not go ? J. h. t. 25 

Weep not for her, for she hath crossed the river 97 

We stood beside the river 29 

When my sins in aspect dread 143 

Within this leaf, to every eye 34 

What must it be to dwell above swaii-i. 50 

Waiting for Spring. The mother watching lonely 103 

We dwell this side of Jordan's stream 147 

"Where hast been toiling all day, sweet heart ? 109 

Wildly falls the night around me Alice cart. 211 

Weary and faint hetty bowman. 263 



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